A/N: Hey, lovelies~ To the guests, I can't PM, thank you very much! Your words touch my heart. You know you're a good author when you make someone cry xD To Pony-Edward-Lucas'Girl, here's part one of three of what happened to Riley! Hope it's satisfying.
As you can probably tell from that comment, this story is coming to an end. After this chapter, there are two more and one epilogue! I already finished writing them so be on the lookout ;)
Without further ado, Chapter 11.

Chapter Eleven

Bio, art, work, Lucas. That's my life. The list grew longer, if that's any consolation, but I think Lucas is enough. It's not about how many but how important something (or in this case, someone) is. I may seem hard to please, but everyone forgets that all I want is to love and be loved.

Right now, I'm at work. This is the only alone time I have now, which, no offense to Lucas, is necessary for a girl like me. It's just that he makes me so hopeful, but I need to be cynical sometimes. Otherwise I become scared.

I have this really bad habit of playing with the register to make music, which I only do when no one is in the store. I don't press the buttons, but I grab pens and tap the register wildly, which is the most free anyone will ever see me. My hair flips back and forth and falls loosely around my shoulders. I'm singing, but not too loudly in case someone will definitely hear me, or I won't hear someone come in. And I certainly don't want someone walking in on my weird dancing and singing.

Ding. I hear the door bell to signal a customer chime.

I stop playing and pretend to look at my nails, which are quite chipped, but I don't mind because I can still see the color. I think of Lucas, and a small smile creeps on my face, but I don't stop it. I learned to enjoy happiness while it lasts because it can be lost in a moment, and I'd rather have a memory of its existence than wonder if I can actually feel that way.

Two people approach the counter: Lucas and the girl who works the next shift. I look behind me at the clock and notice that it's already six. There weren't many people today, but time still managed to sneak up on me. I smile at the girl who takes over my shift and go to the back to gather my belongings. I tell Lucas to wait for a bit and head to the back where the lockers are. I change out of my uniform, grabbing my bag, and return to Lucas. He asks me with a smirk, "Are you ready to go?"

"What does it look like, Hee Haw?"

He laughs. "Fair enough. Let's go."

. . .

We arrive at Lucas' dorm, and when I walk in, I see Zay and Billy arguing over what they should watch. I haven't watched any show or movie in a long time. I don't have enough money to allow myself the pleasure of a TV or a trip to the theater.

"We've seen the Avengers countless times!" Billy says.

"Yeah, but it's an amazing movie," Zay counters.

"We haven't watched The Walking Dead in a while..."

"Because that show is too predictable!"

"You think each death is predictable?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Then prove it by watching it again."

"Hey, guys," Lucas interrupts. "Maya's here. Why not let her decide?"

I give him a death glare for dragging me into this. "Because I don't care, Sundance," I say.

"Then The Walking Dead it is," Billy dictates, grabbing the remote and searching for the show on Netflix. Zay groans in complaint.

"How are you with horror?" Lucas asks me.

I reply, "I honestly don't know. The last time I watched TV was with Riley, and you know how she is with scary stuff."

"Then this should be interesting."

I raise my eyebrow. "Why?"

"There are two types of people in this world when it comes to horror," he says, then puts two fingers up and touches one. "The type that becomes relaxed"-he touches the other finger-"and the type that screams slash yelps and talks during every scene to calm themselves down."

"Which type are you?"

"The type that relaxes. I'm not scared of what isn't real."

"Fair enough."

"Come on, guys," Billy says. "Are you going to stand by the door forever or watch with us?"

"Either way, I get Lucaya action," Zay says.

I roll my eyes and sit on the couch behind them. Lucas sits next to me, slipping his arm around my shoulder, and I lean into him. The show starts, and I'm confused because it's an episode from season four (apparently). Who are the main characters? Who's the main protagonist? That person never dies, and I would like to not become attached to anyone who won't stay. OH MY GOD. WHAT IS THAT ZOMBIE? Its face is so gross-I can't. I turn away, shutting my eyes tightly, and bury my face in Lucas' chest who chuckles at my reaction. He says, "Guess we know which type you are."

"Shut up, Ranger Rick," I say. "I'm not even talking."

"Because you're not looking."

"...I'd rather not."

He laughs and kisses the top of my head. He brushes his hand through my messy hair. I purr (how embarrassing) because it's a soothing motion. It's not sexual; it's sweet. It's like a kind smile instead of a sexy smirk. (Wow, of course I'd compare it to that.)

I hear an ax go though a body, and I literally scream. Then I curse and cover my ears as I hear guts being squished because the image it creates is one that threatens to make me puke. I feel Lucas' arms tighten around me, and I feel his breath against my hand, so I stop hiding my ears. He whispers, "Do you want to watch something else?"

"No," I say. "You don't have to do that for me."

"Then do you want to go out somewhere?"

"Honestly, Lucas, I'm okay. Just enjoy yourself."

"I can't enjoy myself if you aren't."

"Just go, Maya," Billy says.

"Yeah," says Zay. "I can't hear my show with you guys talking in the background."

"So you are interested," Billy singsongs.

"No, I'm so bored that I can't help but listen to Lucaya."

I roll my eyes and sigh. Then I get up and say, "Okay, fine." I walk to the door with Lucas in tow. He closes the door, and we ambulate to the stairs in silence. When we're out of the building, I say, "Sorry for making you come with me and miss your show."

"You didn't make me do anything," Lucas reassures.

"It's just...," I begin, hesitating and debating whether I should continue. I look into his eyes and see him wait for me patiently. I turn away again and say, "It's just that sometimes I feel like I'm a zombie too, like I'm not truly living and I'm constantly hurting people. Like I shouldn't exist." I glance at Lucas to assess if I said too much and notice him still staring at me. He looks so heartbroken, and all I can think is that he doesn't know how to let me down gently when he says, "I can't believe you could ever think such a thing. Who on this planet have you hurt?"

"My mom with our fights and my lack of support. Riley with my lack of attention and affection. And..." This is when I say what I've been avoiding to. I never wanted to admit this because then I would admit to just how inconsiderate I am. "And you. For pushing you away when you deserved no such treatment."

Lucas appears startled by my statement and looks away. He stutters, searching for something to counter with, but I interrupt. "See? You can't even look at me because you know it's true."

He turns to me again, face contorted with pain. "Fine, I admit you hurt me. I just didn't-don't-understand why you left me."

That comment takes my heart and smashes it into millions of microscopic pieces. All my life I said I was the one abandoned. All my life I thought I stood by people, but they decided to walk away. And here I have someone I care about so strongly thinking I did what I vowed I wouldn't do to him. It never occurred to me as that. How could I have been so blind?

"I was afraid," I say in a whisper, eyes tearing up. "My mom went AWOL, and you were the only one who could console me. Not even Riley, my best friend, could. Then I realized I was falling for you, my best friend's boyfriend. I knew if I loved you, there was a chance I would lose both of you. So I went with the safer choice and kept my relationship with Riley because we were inseparable." I look past him, recalling the day she said we couldn't be friends anymore. "Or so I thought."

Lucas places his hand under my chin and gently forces me to look at him. I don't want to. His eyes are rimmed with red. I would be happy to see another color if it didn't kill me this much to see it on such a beautiful face. "I'm sorry," he chokes out. "This is my fault. She didn't want to be your friend because of me."

I knit my eyebrows. "What the hell are you talking about? It couldn't have been you."

"It was always you," he says, eyes softening. "I always loved you, but I figured I didn't have a chance with the rebellious, caring girl, so I chose the kind, supportive one who already liked me because I was too stupid and scared to realize my actions had consequences."

"But how is our separation your fault?" I think he's only trying to make me feel better, and I don't appreciate pity.

"It wasn't obvious that I liked you when you still hung out with me. I could hide my feelings if you were still in my life, but when you distanced yourself from me, I became extremely worried. I asked about you all of the time, and Riley grew suspicious, but she thought that maybe I was just being a good friend. That changed when-when she..."

He struggles with saying the next part, eyes darting everywhere to avoid mine, so I ask, "When she what?"

"When she was planning on having sex with me," he replies, staring at the ground. "I told her that I didn't want to do it with her, and when she asked why, I told her it was because I didn't love her in that way."

"But how does that connect to me?" I ask, growing really frustrated.

"Well, we've been dating since the seventh grade. That's more than enough time to fall for someone, so she knew the only way I couldn't love her in that way was if I loved someone else. then she put two-and-two together and figured out that I love you." He finally looks back up at me, biting his lip and assessing my reaction. I'm not angry with him in the least. I wouldn't have let myself be with him anyways, and I'm the one who distance myself from Riley. She didn't feel connected to me anymore because I'm the one who built the wall, so I say to Lucas, "It's okay. I don't blame you."

"But-" he begins, but I cut him off with a passionate kiss. He kisses me back desperately, arms slipping around my waist and holding on to me tightly. My hands tangle into his hair, and our lips move in sync. How a man like this could love me, I don't know. But maybe it's better that I don't question it.

. . .

Lucas and I lie on my bed fully clothed (relationships don't have to have that kind of intimacy) and talk.

"So you love me?" he asks with a smirk.

I scrunch my face up but smile. "Yeah, I love you very much."

"Since when?"

"Since the day you helped me save the art program in eighth grade. I knew you were the kindest person I could ever meet, and I knew that's a special quality." He wears a small smile in response, and I ask, "When did you realize you love me?"

"It was a slow process. I noticed in small moments, like when Farkle was bullied, and you became protective over him. But the day I realized it completely was the day you told me your mother left. You came to me, broken and empty, and all I could think was who could ever leave someone as caring as you? Strong as you? Beautiful as you... I eventually created a list so long that I knew I loved you."

I laugh, though my eyes are tearing up. He has that effect on me. I say, "I don't even know why I chose to go to you first. I thought of you before I thought of Riley, which surprised me because she was my best friend, obviously. But I was already at your house, and I was tired, so I knocked on your door, and there you were."

"I remember having mixed feelings," he says softly. I look up and know that although his eyes are on me, they only see the me from that day. "I was delighted that you would come to me instead of Riley, but I was also hurt because I hate seeing you so broken. Do you know how beautiful your smile is?" I shake my head. "I'm surprised no one has ever told you how jealous they are of your smile. It always manages to make me happy too." I grin, and he laughs. "See? Right there. That makes up for everything that's ever gone wrong in my life."

He stares at me, and I stare back, and overtime, his gaze darkens. "God, you're so beautiful," he says.

"Says the guy with the fangirls," I tease. "All eyes are on you, Ranger Rick."

He gives me a small smile. "I only need you, Shortstack."

And I need you too, Huckleberry. I always will.