A/N: Thank you to Guest and whoever else who understands that school gets in the way of my posting. I also really appreciate the compliment! And thank you, Katy Lucas, for your kind words~

I have no homework today, so I figured I could update ^-^ I hope you enjoy this chapter!

P. S. Can anyone tell me why people say a pair of jeans when the jeans are the entire pants?

Chapter 10: Lucas POV

I wake up to a cloudy Saturday, which is good because Maya and Ms. Hart are moving in today. Even though I grew up on a farm, I still hate working in the sun. The heat just makes the work seem longer than it is, and I would love for Maya to move in as quickly as possible. Ms. Hart, too, of course.

I get up and go to the kitchen. I grab the cereal box, pour it in a bowl, and add some milk. Ma comes out from her room and says while stretching her arms, "You're up early."

I choke, trying to swallow the food stuck in my throat. "Yeah, well, we have to be at Maya and her ma's house on time," I say.

Ma laughs and pats my shoulder lightly albeit patronizingly. "Of course, dear."

I frown, but Ma ignores me. She just makes herself a bowl of cereal and sits next to me. There's silence, but I feel as though she wants to fill it. It could be the fact that I'm excited, but I still ask, "What is it, Ma?"

I'm just happy to see my boy happy," she replies, reaching out to ruffle my hair.

I duck out of the way. "Ma...promise me you won't make it obvious that I like her?"

She smiles gently, and I think she'll agree, but then she says, "I can't promise that, Lucas."

I groan. "First Veronica, and now you."

Ma watches me, amused. "Who's Veronica?"

"A waitress at the diner who found out I like Maya. I don't even know how. She didn't even ask me; she just walked up to me and said, 'You like Maya.'"

Ma starts laughing, and I keep saying "what? What?" until she answers, "Oh, just the I-will-never-love-anyone Lucas falling in love."

My mouth twitches to smile because I don't know how else to react. But I don't mind. I used to prefer the fear of regret over the fear of a broken heart, but looking at Maya makes me wonder how I could ever do that. It also makes me wonder how I can like someone so much so easily, but Ma and Zay finally convinced me not to care.

I finish my cereal and stand up. I put my bowl in the sink, kissing Ma's cheek along the way. I head to my room to change, and I don't even bother hiding the grin forming on my face. It's strange to hope when you didn't before.

I whistle as I change out of my pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a blue shirt. I fix my bed, making sure I don't collapse on top of it because today's not the day to fall back asleep. Ma knocks on the door and comes in smiling. "I haven't heard you whistle that tune in many years," she notes. She hasn't heard my voice in many years, but I don't point that out. Instead, I just say, "It just feels right right now."

"I'm sure it does," she agrees. "Now get to the bathroom because I need to use it."

She leaves, and I do as I'm told. I silently thank Ma for having such a clean house because I'd hate inviting someone to live in a squalor. I fidget as I brush my teeth, making myself worry that I'll lose all my self-control. I gurgle in frustration. I don't want to scare Maya and Ms. Hart away just because I don't know how to handle new emotions.

I get out of the bathroom and realize I don't know what to do for another half hour. I pray that Zay's awake and at home and text him, asking if he wants to Skype. After pacing the living room and fluffing the pillows on the couch for five minutes, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and take it out. "Ye," he answers.

When he picks up, instead of a greeting, Zay says, "So today's the day."

I roll my eyes, something I only do to him. "Good morning to you, too, buddy."

"Mornin'. So today's the day."

"Yeah. It is."

"Are you excited, man?" he asks with a smirk. He already knows the answer.

I frown. "Why must you tease me?"

"C'mon, Lucas. Don't act like it's not the best thing about me."

I chuckle. "Whatever."

He groans. "You're so lucky."

I will never hear the end of it if I agree, so I just shrug. "I guess."

"Boy, don't give me that nonchalance! I like seeing you smile like an idiot."

"Thanks. I like seeing you be an idiot."

"Love ya, too, man," he says then claps his hands together. "So! Will I ever meet the Blonde Beauty?"

"You mean in person?" I ask. That would surely be an experience. Maya would probably punch him in the stomach by the end of it. The image makes me chuckle.

"Are you kidding? I can't wait that long. I meant over Skype."

I can't deny that I'm disappointed because I really wanted to see Maya sock Zay. "Sure," I reply. "Tonight?"

"Yeah, that sounds great. Listen, I have to go now. See you and the Blonde Beauty later." He starts cackling, so I hang up without telling him bye. He might yell at me for it the next time we speak, but I kind of freaked out, and that was my first instinct. It's a weird, atypical development, having your crush move in with you. It doesn't happen to most people, and last night, I thanked God for His gift.

Ma knocks on my door and comes in. "Lucas, are you ready to go?"

I grin. "Today's the day."

. . .

I knock on the door and rock on my heels, and Ma loops her arm through mine to stop my movement, but it does little to help. Maya's ma opens the door with a tired smile and says, "Good morning. We're just about ready."

Ma notices the strained muscles on Ms. Hart's face and asks, "Are you sure? We can wait longer if you would like."

"Well, Maya hasn't come out of her room yet… I don't know why. Do you mind coming in?"

"Not at all," Ma replies, and we step inside. I immediately notice how empty the apartment is. I wonder how bittersweet it is to look around your childhood home and think, I'm not going to live here anymore. I can picture so clearly that I ask Ms. Hart, "May I try to speak to Maya?"

She sighs and smiles gratefully. "Yes you may. Thank you. Her room is the third to the right."

"No problem," I say and leave. When I get to where Ms. Hart directed me to, I knock lightly on the door. Maya's voice is faint as she says, "I'll be right out, Mom."

"It's Lucas," I say. I don't receive a response, which I take a yes, so I open the door. Maya is staring out the window and doesn't acknowledge me, so I say lamely, "Hey."

She doesn't greet me, just says, "I'm so stupid."

"Why would you think that?"

"I was so ecstatic to move out - don't get me wrong; I still am - but do you know what I thought when I got up this morning?" I note that she's still in her pajamas but don't answer, knowing that's a rhetorical question. "I thought, 'He won't be able to find us.'" I don't need to ask her who "he" is and let her continue. "But why should I care if he finds us? He left so long ago that I can't even remember how his voice sounds. I don't need him… I don't."

"You don't," I confirm, now standing behind her.

She turns to me with red-rimmed eyes. "So why do I want him to come back?"

I brush her hair out of her face and cup my hand on her cheek, and she instinctively presses herself further into my palm. "Because once you love someone, it's hard to stop," I reply.

"How can I love him if I'm pissed at him?"

"Well, the opposite of anger is happiness, not love. You can love him even when you're mad at him."

Her lips quiver, and a single tear falls, which I wipe away gently. "Do you love your dad?"

I look down at our feet, not even debating this response. "Yeah," I whisper.

She watches me, eyes flickering over every contour of my face. Then she slips her arms around my waist and buries her own face in my chest. I can feel her shake, so I wrap my arms around her and tighten my hold. "I," she stutters. "I don't want the thought of him to hurt me anymore."

I rest my chin on top of her head. "One day, it won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"You're a fighter, Maya. You can get through anything."

She leans back slightly and studies me. Then she tilts her head and kisses my cheek softly. "Thank you," she says, and before I can react or respond or something, she turns her head to look out the window again. "I'm going to miss this view."

I turn to look at where she is and see many people walk by, everyone waving at Maya. She lifts one arm from my waist and waves back. As embarrassed as I am to be caught in such an intimate moment, I don't let go. Actually, I wave at them too. They seem confused at first, but then they grin and reply. I look back at Maya and say, "I would miss this view, too. But we have a great window of our own."

She slowly smiles, and that's enough to make me relieved. Then she pulls herself out of our embrace, and my arms fall limply by my sides. "Well, we should go now."

I nod. "Okay."

She leaves first, grabbing my hand and tugging me behind her. I hold on, too, and I swear I can see her smile grow, even if it's just a little. When we get to the living room, her ma walks up to Maya, and Maya lets go of my hand to hug her. I hear her whisper, "Sorry, Mom, but I'm okay now."

Ms. Hart looks up at me and mouths a thank-you. I mouth back a "no problem" and stand next to Ma. She says, "My, how you've grown, Lucas."

I smile at her as Maya and Ms. Hart come up to us with their bags in their hands. I grab their stuff from them, ignoring their protests, and head to the car Ma rented. (She insisted on getting one because she didn't want me carrying their luggage the entire time like I did when I came to New York.) Only when I set the bags in the trunk do I realize that they don't have much to bring with them, and I frown. But when Maya adds her guitar to the collection, my smile returns. I can't wait to hear her play.

Ma and Ms. Hart sit in the front, and Maya and I sit in the back. After we buckle ourselves in, Ms. Hart says, "Today's the day."

Maya looks at me, and I stare back, trying to figure out what's going on in that unique mind of hers. "Today's the day," she finally agrees.

. . .

Ma helps Ms. Hart bring her luggage into the house, and I stand behind Maya as she takes her guitar out of the trunk and reach up to close the trunk when she turns around. I hold my hand out to the instrument tentatively in case she's an overprotective musician, and she glances at it before bringing her eyes to mine and smirking. She laces her fingers through mine, and although I'm shocked, I don't complain. I hold her hand even when I open the door, using my elbow to turn the knob. I lead her to her room, which is extremely plain. She sets down her guitar and spins around, taking the entire room in, and I feel compelled to say, "I know it's not much, but - "

"Are you kidding?" she exclaims and falls on to the bed. "The ceiling doesn't leak; the mattress doesn't squeak; and the walls are bare, so I can paint them - " She stops abruptly and sits up to look at me. "May I paint the walls?"

I was grinning at her exuberance, and I still grin now even if I have no idea how this innocence in her suddenly appeared. "I'm sure Ma would love that. You paint?"

She smiles back. "Art is the only thing that makes me feel all that I can't."

"Such as?" I ask, sitting next to her.

She brings her legs up and circles her arms around them. "You sure you want to know what lies inside the void of Maya Hart? It's darker than my Dungeon of Sadness."

"Dungeon of Sadness?"

"Yeah, I have Josh and a whole flock of ballerinas in there."

"Ballerinas?"

"Yep," she says and drops her cheek on her knee, gazing up at me. "When I was around seven or eight, I wanted to be a ballerina after watching The Nutcracker with Riley, so my mom took me to the school a town over from where we live." She looks at me as if considering something. "Well, lived… Anyway, they told her how much tuition cost, and she looked down at me and said with a sad smile, 'Sorry, Babygirl.' As she led me out of the building, I tugged my hand out of hers and demanded to be let in. I yelled at the teacher and the students who all watched me with disdain. My mom pulled me away, apologizing profusely to everyone, and to this day, I resent not being able to do anything."

"Wow," I say. "You really wanted to be a ballerina."

Maya seems appalled by this statement, and I'm about to say sorry when she says, "You think that I care about myself? No, I just hate seeing that expression on my mom's face, the one that said, 'I'll never make my babygirl happy.'" She lies back down on the bed and covers her eyes with her forearm. I follow suit and say softly to the ceiling, "You should care about yourself."

She stares at me; I can feel it. "Why?" she whispers.

"Because you're a person, and a special one at that."

She stays silent for a few minutes before: "You just keep complimenting me today, Huckleberry."

Now I turn to her, and she scrunches her nose at me. I say, "Well, you're making it very easy, Shortstack."

She rolls her eyes at the nickname. "Am not."

"Are to."

"Am not."

"Are to."

"Am not."

There's a knock on the door, and we both lean on our forearms to see who it is. It's Maya's mom, so I automatically sit up straight on the edge of the bed away from Maya.

"Hello, Ms. Hart."

She chuckles. "You don't need to be afraid of me, Lucas. I'm just an average thirty-six-year-old lady who's checking up on her daughter." She glances around the room and says, "Babygirl, you should unpack."

Maya jumps up from the bed. "Okay." When Ms. Hart leaves, Maya says, "I'm lassoing you in, Cowboy. Help me." She slides on the carpet to her bag and unzips it. I sit next to her, and she hands me haphazardly folded clothing. I quirk a brow at her to which she shrugs. "What?"

"Move aside," I reply, and she rolls away. I take out all the shirts she has and neatly put them in the second compartment of the drawer. Then I place her skirts and jeans in the bottom. I look inside the bag and grimace, pushing it back to her. Maya doesn't even have to peer inside to know why I'm giving it back to her. She laughs and says, "I dare you, Hopalong."

Maybe it's the mischievous glint in her eyes, or maybe it's the playful smirk shaping her lips, but I feel brave enough to take the bag back and pull out the bras. She cracks up as I tentatively put them in the top of the drawer along with her socks and underwear. She wipes at her eyes when I finish. "You're just too much for me, Hee Haw."

"You know, most girls would be embarrassed to have a guy touch their...personal belongings."

"Well, what's there to hide? You know I wear them." Then she grins. "Plus, it's great seeing you all flustered."

I blush. "Shut up."

She fake-gasps. "Where are your manners, Ranger Rick? You are in the presence of a lady!"

"Ladies don't show men their bras."

She smirks. "Now was that so hard to say?" Before I can answer, she grabs her backpack and pulls out a notebook. She waves it in front of me with a pout. "Help me?"

I scoot closer to her. "Sure. What is it?"

"Pre-Cal."

I frown. "I will help, but I warn you my freshman math teacher back in Texas was crappy at his job."

"I don't care; I just need answers."

"That's not how we learn, Maya."

"Then teach me, Lucas the Good."

"Okay." I go over to the bed and sit so that my back is against it. When Maya just looks at me, I say, "Come here. I promise you I don't bite."

She does as she's told and, out of nowhere, pushes me to the floor. I just blink at her to which she says, "Don't worry. I know how to protect myself."

. . .

Three and a half hours later, Maya feels confident in her math skills, and Ma suggests going shopping for Maya's and Ms. Hart's room. Maya gets up faster than me waking up to do chores. She shyly asks Ma if she can paint her room, and Ma grins, telling her that she would love to see art up close. We take the train to the mall downtown, and Maya buzzes around with glee. I watch her fondly, not even trying to disguise it with amusement. I don't care who notices I like her; I just don't want her to run away from me.

When we get to the store, Maya studies every curtain, pillowcase, and bedsheet in wonder. She touches every fabric of every color and admires them. Ms. Hart settles on the color scheme of light blue and white while Maya settles on lavender and pastel yellow. The purity of their smiles warms my heart, and I'm glad they're living with Ma and me because we'll make sure that never goes away again.

. . .

After dinner, I ask Maya if she wants to meet my best friend. She responds that she's excited to see who could ever be friends with "Quick Draw," and I laugh because after the Skype call is over, I'm sure she's going to ask how anyone could be friends with Isaiah Babineaux. The guy's awesome, but he's also insane.

We sit on my bed with our backs against the wall. My laptop is very new, so I have no trouble getting on, and right when I do, Zay calls. I click to answer, and he grins at me. "Where is she?"

"Zay," I say. This is just like this morning.

"Howdy," he says only to appease me. "Where is she?"

"I'm right here," Maya replies, shifting to be in the video.

"Hot damn. Lucas, my boy, she is a Blonde Beauty." I freeze. Maybe she didn't hear. Maybe his voice got muffled. I mean, we are talking over the Internet.

No such luck for Lucas Friar. Maya smirks but focuses her attention on Zay. "Blonde Beauty, you say?"

"Oh, not just me, dear. I quoted that from the boy next to you."

I slap my forehead so hard that I'm sure it's as red as my ears. I might just lost it one day if I spend more time with this guy.

"Anyway," I interrupt. "How's school, Zay?"

"Okay, okay, I think I figured out how to ask Vanessa to go to homecoming with me."

I frown. "Homecoming isn't for another month."

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure a lot of guys are planning to ask her, so I gotta be ahead of the game, man."

Maya asks, "Does Vanessa like you back?"

"No," Zay admits. "But - "

"Then why bother?"

"Because she's the hottest girl in school?"

"Well, she's also nice and friendly, I guess."

Maya sighs. "Dude, if you don't even have a more profound reason to like this girl, then you shouldn't put so much effort in trying to get with her. And even if you do have one, and you just don't want to tell me because we just met, why would you pursue someone who can't like you for who you are? Why would you pursue someone who needs grand gestures to fall in love with you? I don't know anything about you, but I know that if Huckleberry here cares about you, you must be a good guy, and good guys deserve more than a superficial love."

Zay looks at Maya with awe, and I grin at her. She delivers a compelling argument, and despite Zay being the most stubborn person I've ever met, I can see she got to him. He faces me and says, "Lucas, I really like this girl."

Maya laughs.

After two hours of the three of us bonding over Skype, I shutdown my laptop. I turn to Maya to find her staring at me. She watches me skeptically, so I ask, "What?"

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

She seems so vulnerable at this moment, sinking into the mattress and making herself appear smaller than she could ever be. So I tell her the truth. "I don't lie."

She tilts her head and absorbs my words. Then a small smile spreads across her face, and she says, "No one has ever told me that."

"Well, it's true," I say matter-of-factly.

She grins and take me off guard by kissing me. It lasts only a second, so short I can't react again, and when she pulls back, she says, "That's just a thank-you for everything you've done today. Don't expect it to happen again, Hee Haw."

Is it conceited to think that she's lying?