With Farkle officially gone, it's startling how empty the van feels.
Riley has a hard time wrapping her brain around it. They started this road trip with a full car, and now they're only taking up half the space. Three of her friends are off at university, already starting a new chapter in their lives. For all intents and purposes, they're living through a big bang and creating new galaxies of their own.
Smackle, Zay, Farkle—they have their own gravity now, and it's stronger than hers. She can't keep them contained in her orbit forever. She has to let them drift away.
Despite the physical emptiness of Van Cory, Riley is relieved that the two people left on the road with her are two of her favorite people in the entire universe. With Lucas and Maya, that icky feeling that was haunting her for so much of the first half of the trip doesn't stand a chance. That darkness is back in Kentucky, buried for good.
Maya is determined to get out of Missouri after leaving Farkle behind, so she stays behind the wheel. Riley maintains passenger duty as she's done for a majority of the car time—an exhausting but important role that she's honored to have. Lucas sits in the back behind the driver's seat, and Riley finds herself sitting sideways most of the time to make sure he's still included in the conversation.
With only three of them, someone is always going to be tucked away in the back seat.
Still, they're not short for entertainment. Lucas and Maya get into a war over who can play the worst possible road trip song, Riley's phone being passed back and forth as Maya dictates to her what to type in and Lucas comes back with an even more cringe-worthy choice. By the time they've cycled through an entire discography of terrible music, Lucas puts on the Main Street Electrical Parade theme from Walt Disney World Resorts and Maya surrenders.
"Okay, okay. You win, Huckleberry. You win. Turn this shit off. Turn it off!"
Lucas turns the volume up instead, dancing in his seat and kicking the back of the driver's seat. Riley is laughing so hard her sides hurt.
Maya wrenches the aux cord out from Riley's phone, prompting Lucas to hand it back to her just as they pass a big blue sign welcoming them into another state.
"Welcome to Arkansas!" Maya cheers in her infamously bad Southern accent. "Okay, hold up. I do not understand why it's spelled that way. Can someone please explain this to me? Why pronounce it with saw at the end if it's spelled like Kansas? Your father taught me nothing."
Riley gets to take over the music for about an hour more, keeping Maya attentive with whatever discussion topics she can come up with on the fly. Just as it's starting to get dark, Lucas leans forward and swats at Riley's shoulder lightly.
"Turn down the music," he says distractedly, focused on his phone.
"What? Why?"
Lucas presses a button and there's a moment of silence, Riley lowering the volume as requested. Then, a familiar voice fills the car.
"I can't believe y'all are actually surviving without me," Zay says in a lively tone. "Gotta say, I'm a little offended."
Lucas is grinning at the screen, turning it slightly to show Riley. Zay is walking across his new campus back in North Carolina, talking to them through Facetime. His face is aglow with the flashlight on his phone, using it to keep him visible in the dim lighting of nightfall back on the east coast.
"Zayby!" Maya shouts, hitting the steering wheel gleefully. "Why did you have to call when I'm driving? I can't see your beautiful, beautiful face."
"Sorry, Maya. Next time, I promise. How's it going?"
Riley glances at Lucas, who is smiling down at his phone like an idiot. She shrugs. "We haven't died yet. Still considering that a success."
"I'll say," Zay snorts. "Well, I just wanted to call because I wanted to show you guys something. I'm passing by on my way back to the dorms and I figured, y'all are stuck in a car, it's not like you have anything better to do."
"Except, well, drive," Maya grumbles.
There's a long pause as Zay disappears into a dark building, his humming the only indication that he's still on the call. They can hear his footsteps echoing against the floor. "Okay, are y'all ready for this?"
"Show us!" Riley cheers.
The screen is flooded with light. In the time it takes to adjust accordingly, Zay slides into the middle of the room he's standing in. It takes Riley a long moment to realize he's showing them his reflection in a mirror.
He's in a ballet studio. A very nice, state of the art dance studio.
"Check! This! Out!" he says enthusiastically, wheeling around to give them the full tour with the phone. He shows off the sound system, the wall of mirrors, the bars and the flooring that he swears is impeccable for dance. Riley doesn't understand, but she believes him. Just from the amount of excitement on his face and in his voice, she believes he's in the perfect place.
Zay does a little leap, spinning slightly as he lands. Riley's grateful for the mirror so she can see him doing all of this goofy stuff he'd probably never do in front of her in person. "It's so wild, y'all. They have like, six of these studios. Maybe not that many, but it sure feels like it. And I've already met so many other dancers. Some of these people have been training since pre-school, can you believe that?"
"Still have to work hard to be better than you," Lucas points out.
Zay waves him off, back to wandering out of the building and onto campus. "You flatter me."
Riley examines Lucas, watching his affectionate grin as Zay goes on and on about his first couple of days on campus. She can tell he misses him, but that the joy of seeing him so eager about his college experience so far makes the sacrifice worth it.
She knows there was a time where the two of them talked about maybe going to A&M together. But it's obvious Lucas wouldn't have Zay be anywhere other than exactly where he is now, pursuing his dream.
"Well, that's all. Just wanted to show that off. I'll let you guys get back to driving and all that. Good luck, Maya."
"I hate you, Zay Babineaux. No respect for your elders."
"Next time! I swear!"
Goodbyes are exchanged and Zay ends the video call, sending the car into momentary silence. Riley immediately leans forward and turns the music back up, hoping to fill it.
Lucas leans back in his seat, pocketing his phone. He's still smiling, but it's not as strong as it was before—more like the ghost of one lingering behind. Bittersweet.
That's the feeling Riley is afraid of. Not the goodbye, not the happiness from seeing her friends succeed in all of their own endeavors. It's the feeling right after, when they move past it but she's still there thinking about them. The echo of the happiness, emphasizing their absence.
She wants to reach out and take Lucas's hand, but he's too far away the way they're seated. Already, he feels too far away.
They don't get to the hotel until long after dark. Maya is exhausted as she slips from the driver's seat, obviously enough that Lucas volunteers to carry her bags considering all the miles she put in for the day. She doesn't argue with him.
When they get into the room and drop their bags, Maya walks to the center of the room and clears her throat. Once Riley and Lucas are facing her, she straightens up and clasps her hands together authoritatively.
"Let's just cut to the chase. You two probably want to share a bed. And you know what?" Lucas and Riley exchange an uncertain look, opening their mouths to speak. Maya bulldozes over them. "I don't care. You guys can share, that's fine. I'm tired, I'd kill for my own bed, and I'm not twelve years old. So pick your bed and lay in it so I can crash and get the beauty rest I so sorely deserve."
With that, she turns on her heel and stomps towards the bathroom.
When she closes the door, both of them take a moment to catch up with the speech just delivered. Riley wasn't anticipating getting to share with Lucas, but she's definitely not going to complain if Maya's going to hand it to her.
Lucas clearly has the same thought. He makes a face, shrugging. "You can choose which one. I'm not picky."
Once all three of them have gotten ready for bed and settled in for the night, Maya leans over and switches off the light. There's a shuffle as she situates back under her covers, before silence falls over the room.
Maya breaks it a couple seconds later. "Do you guys think Zay is going to be famous? Like, a famous dancer."
Riley hums thoughtfully, staring up at the ceiling as her eyes adjust to the dark. Lucas adjusts next to her, instinctively finding her hand and linking their fingers together.
"Maybe," he says.
Riley sighs. "Can't wait to find out."
To her amazement, Riley isn't the first one to wake up the next morning. When she rouses awake and rubs her eyes, she can hear the shower running. Maya's bed is empty across from her. She has to wonder if maybe she's still dreaming and making this up.
She rolls over onto her other side instead, being greeted with the friendly reminder of Lucas resting next to her. Considering she hasn't seen him asleep since the very first night of the trip when they all crammed into that small motel room together, the admiration she feels watching him doze is at a much higher degree than usual.
There are few things Riley Matthews loves more than waking up next to Lucas Friar. She can't quite put her finger on it, but things just feel settled when he's there beside her. Sharing his warmth, sharing his presence, sharing the quiet that they can really only find with each other.
It's the same unidentified feeling she sees on his face when she wakes up before him, which is more often than not. It's in how soft his features are, how even his breathing is, how for those few hours each day his fingers aren't fidgeting and picking himself apart. For those brief moments in the early morning—when it's just her and him and the sun rising out the window painting him in a halo of grey-blue—Lucas is actually at peace.
She tries very hard to ignore the fact that this may be the last time she gets to see it for a long time.
Instead, she reaches forward and touches his face, stroking his cheekbone as gently as she can. She continues this pattern along his jawline, smiling lightly when he hums indignantly. As usual, her affectionate way of waking him up proves to be successful.
"What time is it?" he mutters, voice still raspy with drowsiness. Another one of her favorite morning things.
Her thumb brushes softly against his lower lip. She matches his tone, not speaking any louder than a murmur. "About eight, I think."
He pouts. "Five more minutes."
"We don't have to get up yet," she laughs. When his eyes flutter open to gaze at her, she feels her heart skip a beat. "We just have to get out by nine if we want to get to Austin by dinner. That's when Pappy Joe is expecting us, right?"
"Yeah. He's not the one we have to worry about though." He brings his hand up to take hers from his face, holding it in both of his own. "It's Dylan who's going to blow a gasket if we're late. This is the only night he can see us before he leaves for Baylor and he said he'd kill me if he missed me again."
Riley ponders over the fact that although he hasn't seen him in years, Dylan still considers Lucas one of his best friends. She hopes that it'll be the same way for all of them.
"Also," Lucas says softly, playing with her fingers idly. "He really wants to meet you. I actually think that's what he's more interested in."
She feels herself blush. "Aw, how sweet. But I'm sure that's not true."
"I think if we asked anyone on this Earth who they'd rather anxiously wait around to meet, everyone and their mother would say you over me in like, three seconds. There wouldn't even be a hesitation."
"Stop that."
"I'm not doing anything, I'm just stating facts." She kicks him lightly in the shin and he smirks. "But yes, Dylan and Asher both are eagerly anticipating your arrival. Vanessa is looking forward to seeing both you and Maya again."
Riley beams, before tossing a glance towards the bathroom. "To be honest, I'm a little floored Maya is already awake."
"I know. Are we sure she's not dead in there?"
"We could knock and ask."
Lucas makes a face, finding her other hand and taking it as well. "Five more minutes."
Riley giggles again, scooting closer and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. He smiles and wraps his arm around her waist snugly, nudging his forehead against hers. Allowing herself one more peck, she bumps their noses together and bats her eyelashes at him. "Careful, cowboy. I don't want Maya stepping out here and insisting she has to scrub us with holy water."
He snorts. "As if I would ever do anything with you with Maya in the same room. Or the same building. Or within a fifty-mile radius. That's just not a comfortable scenario."
Riley hums in a mixture of agreement and disdain, grimacing when she imagines even for a second how badly a situation like that would turn out.
Lucas laughs at her expression, raising his eyebrows at her. "Exactly. You see what I mean? That's what I'm saying."
They exchange a look and descend into giggles. Riley hides her head against his chest, biting her lip with a bashful grin.
"You know, I can hear you laughing," Maya calls from behind the bathroom door. The shower stops running. "I swear if you guys are doing something you don't want me to see you better stop in the next five seconds."
Both of them crack up, and when Maya steps out of the bathroom a minute or so later she glares at them as they continue to laugh into the pillows. Riling each other up, as they so often do.
Maya rolls her eyes. "Losers."
After a lengthy shift on the road where Riley takes the driver's seat, they pull off for lunch. The three of them eat as quickly as possible, running on what feels like borrowed time in order to get to Texas before nightfall.
When they head back out to the van, Riley immediately heads for the passenger side door. She's surprised when Maya takes her arm and pulls her away from it, nudging her towards the back.
"No, no, honey. You won't be sitting shotgun this time."
"What?" She's a little wounded. "Why not?"
Lucas comes to stand next to Maya, clasping his hands together. Both of them give her a patronizing look. "Riles, you've done passenger duty practically this whole trip, and you just stopped driving. You haven't gotten to nap this entire time and you look like you're about to drop any second."
Riley blinks. "What are you talking about? I got a full night of sleep, I'm fine!"
"You're telling me that if you had the chance to knock right now, like just crash and get some extra rest, you wouldn't take it? Because you're so well-rested?"
She hesitates. The more they point it out, the more fatigued she feels. In some ways, this journey has been a lot of running on adrenaline and emotion. It's going to catch up to her eventually.
Lucas narrows his eyes at her. Maya nods triumphantly. "Yeah, that's what I thought."
"Okay, but really, I'm—!"
"Riley, either you get in that backseat and get some sleep, or I set Huckleberry on you and he puts you in the backseat against your will."
"I wouldn't do that."
Maya raises her arm and shushes him, smacking her hand against his face. Her eyes stay on Riley, pointing with her other hand to the back door. "Rest."
Whatever argument Riley attempts to make, she knows Maya will have a comeback. That's the way she is. Besides, a nap could do her some good. She sighs defeat, raising her arms in surrender and pulling the back door open.
"There she goes. Atta girl, honey." Maya pulls open the passenger door and hops in as Lucas walks around to drive. "Okay, Hop-a-long, you better have something mildly interesting to say because Riley's out of commission and I'm out of smoothies."
Lucas's groan of annoyance is the last thing Riley registers before she curls up on the seat behind him, closing her eyes as they pull out of the parking lot and back out on the road.
She's not sure what pulls her out of dozing off, but about an hour later she finds herself drifting back into consciousness. What's unexpected to her is that there's no music playing, although she assumes Lucas and Maya couldn't agree on what to listen to and gave up.
Even more surprising is the fact that the two of them seem to be keeping up a solid conversation, speaking in low, quiet voices as not to disturb her.
Riley knows she shouldn't eavesdrop. She knows it. But curiosity gets the better of her. She adjusts in her seat, still feigning sleep but straining to listen.
"I'm not saying you have to tell me," Maya murmurs, keeping her eyes on her shoes up on the dashboard. It doesn't seem strange to Riley that they're avoiding eye contact as much as possible. As much as Lucas and Maya are friends, especially considering all the work it took to get there, she figures there will always be an atmosphere of discomfort between them. "I just don't see why I'm the last to know."
"You're not," Lucas argues. "Smackle doesn't know."
"Okay, you didn't tell her, but I'm pretty sure she knows. She spent all of junior year with you guys while Farkle was getting stoned, it's not like she's oblivious."
"Look, it's not that I don't feel like you deserve to know or anything." Lucas pauses, clearing his throat softly. Riley doesn't have to look to guess that his fingers are fidgeting, tapping against the steering wheel. "It's just something I'm figuring out on my own. It's not something everyone needs to know. But it's not about you. Okay?"
Maya holds her tongue, pouting and looking out the window. She crosses her arms, both of them falling silent for a few minutes.
"Just promise me that if there was something I could do to help, you'd tell me."
There's a long pause. Finally, Lucas speaks again.
"I would."
This seems to satisfy Maya for now. She nods, focusing back on the dashboard window rather than looking in the opposite direction. "You know, you're really lucky you have Riley. She's so protective of you, it's wild. And I'm guessing that whatever is going on, she's helping fix it."
Riley jumps a bit at the mention of her name, thinking maybe she's been caught. But the conversation moves right along, so they haven't noticed her one way or the other.
"I know. I've known that since I met her." Lucas hesitates, choosing his next words carefully. "Sometimes it just feels like… I don't know."
Maya smirks slightly, raising her eyebrows. "We about to have a heart to heart, Ranger Rick? We going to do this?"
"Not if you call me that."
She rolls her eyes, crossing her ankles. "Alright, I'm sorry. Are we going to have a heart to heart, Lucas James Friar? Or do you prefer Friar-Matthews? Lucas James Matthews?"
"Alright, alright. That's enough."
Maya grins to herself, resting her elbows on her knees. Riley's a little amazed they can have a whole conversation without looking at one another. Maybe she's biased, since she spends so much time looking at Lucas anyway, but it seems like an impressive amount of avoidance.
"So, you were saying? Sometimes you feel like…"
"I know how lucky I am to have Riley. And I know she cares about me, genuinely and honestly and with everything she has and all that. But sometimes it's hard to believe. Just because…"
He trails off. Riley can hear the hesitancy in his voice, his reluctance towards being so vulnerable. It took her years to earn the level of trust where he doesn't hesitate that way anymore. Even then, it still sneaks in occasionally in their more serious conversations.
He clears his throat again. "I'm pretty sure I don't deserve her."
"Join the club," Maya snorts. "Been here for over a decade and counting."
Silence settles over them for a brief period of time. Both of them lost in thought.
"Riley is one of those rare people that doesn't have to work towards being a positive influence. She just is. She's all of this support and warmth and hope packaged in this cute little wrapper." Maya squints out towards the road, biting her lip anxiously. "People like you and me, we're drawn to that. That's what pulls us in. She's got this gravity, and we spend all of our lives chasing it regardless of whether we'll ever get it or not. I guess we're the lucky ones, because she chose to let us in."
Lucas shakes his head. His next words are almost inaudible. "I'm not good enough for her."
"Neither am I." Maya sighs, digging her heel into the dashboard. "No one is."
There's a part of Riley that wishes she hadn't decided to eavesdrop. She knows that no matter what she says, what she does, Lucas and Maya are never going to believe how important they are to her. They're never going to believe how much she loves them, how perfectly worthy they are to have her in their lives and how lucky she is to have them in hers.
"Maya?"
"Huckleberry."
Lucas chooses to ignore the nickname, indicating a return to form. "Just want to make sure you know it goes both ways. The helping thing. If something is happening with you, now or later, you can tell me. And I'll try to help in whatever way I can."
She absorbs this, nodding slowly. "Well, thanks."
"I just want you to be happy," he says softly, repeating the mantra he's been spouting for years. Practically since he met them all. Riley knows that if Lucas believes he's good for anything, it's protecting his friends.
Maya finally tilts her head to look at him. The ghost of a smile passes over her lips. "I know."
He turns his head for a quick second to return the beam. Then the two of them settle into silence, retreating back into their own heads.
Maya and Lucas have never been an easy duo to handle. But it's moments like these that let Riley know all her assumptions about them are true. They may not be close, they may not agree on most things, but at their cores both of them care about one another. And they both care about her more than either of them care about themselves.
If they're going to spend their whole lives chasing her warmth, she's going to spend her whole life trying to show them how much they deserve it.
One driving rotation, one state line, and about fifteen ha-hurrs later, the three of them are well on their way across Texas towards Pappy Joe's place. Riley is back in the driver's seat, Maya relegated to the backseat for a turn. Lucas keeps up the conversation as Riley concentrates on the road, asking her questions about which friend she'd choose in certain situations.
"You have to defuse a bomb in fifteen seconds and only one friend can help you. Who do you choose, Zay or Farkle?" Riley hesitates and Lucas pats the dashboard urgently, an amused grin growing across his face. "You're not allowed to think about it! You're supposed to say the first one that comes to mind!"
Riley gradually descends into a stressed scream. "I don't know! Zay!"
Maya, who up to that point had been putting a great deal of effort into ignoring them and working on her sketchbook, lifts her head to stare at her through the rearview mirror. "Zay? To defuse a bomb?"
"Yeah. I don't know. I was just thinking about how Farkle would probably yell at me and I'd get overwhelmed and start crying. Then we'd all blow up and it would be all my fault."
Lucas rubs her shoulder. "Maybe we should stop playing this game."
Riley opens her mouth to assure them she's fine when Van Cory suddenly rattles, bouncing along the road in a strange, lopsided manner. Maya immediately sits up straight, exchanging a look with Lucas before rolling her eyes in exasperation. "My God, what now?"
"I'm guessing I should pull over?" Riley asks tentatively, locking eyes with Lucas. He nods, glancing out the window.
She pulls to a stop on the shoulder, hitting the hazard lights and hopping out of the car. She's careful to wait until a large truck goes zooming by before jogging around to the other side of the vehicle.
Maya climbs out just as Lucas walks over to examine the back right tire. He puts his hands on his hips. "It's just a flat. Must've been some stuff on the road or something. Luckily, we can fix this."
"I swear," Maya hoots, slapping the hood of the van. "I swear, Van Cory is trying to kill me. Van Cory is out to get me and make sure I never get to California. Why? Why is he doing this? Why is your father doing this to me?"
Riley reaches out and takes her shoulders, pulling her into a soothing hug. "There, there. Shh."
"I just want to be a California girl."
"I know, Peaches. We'll get you there."
Lucas crouches down in front of the tire, examining it. "We're going to need the tool kit. And the spare. Can someone grab it?"
Maya pulls away from Riley, holding up her hands and making a face. "I know, I know, I said I'd be more helpful. I'm on it."
As she trudges her way to back of the van, Riley wanders over and joins Lucas, kneeling down on the gravel next to him. "How do you think we'll be on time? I'd hate to upset Dylan."
Lucas smirks. "Dylan will be just fine. And we should still make it in time. Hopefully we can get this done quickly. Just make sure Maya doesn't do something like whine her way into the middle of the road and get run over."
"Hey, now, play nice."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah."
"Hey, Lucas," Maya calls. She hands him the tools but her eyes are on the road, watching another vehicle head their way. "That car is slowing down. Why do you think they're doing that?"
Lucas glances up, spotting the pickup truck in question. "Maybe they're going to help us."
"Why the hell would they do that?"
Riley stands up straight again and shrugs. "We are in the South, Maya. People are supposedly nicer here. More willing to help a friend in need. Southern hospitality and all that."
"Yeah, alright. Sure."
All of them watch as the truck slows down and pulls onto the shoulder in front of them. Lucas jumps to his feet, standing in between Riley and Maya. The engine turns off and the passengers emerge.
It's an older couple, a match of opposites by the looks of them. The man is round-faced with slightly pink, sunburnt skin. The woman is lanky and sharp-featured. Both have friendly expressions on their faces. It's obvious they're residents of the land, although the Texas license plate does make it even more clear.
The man tips the front of his baseball cap. "Hey there."
"Howdy," Lucas says cheerfully, offering his hand. The two of them shake, as if they're old acquaintances reuniting rather than strangers who just met on the side of the road.
Maya's eyes widen. She leans into Riley, whispering in her ear. "Oh my God, there's more of him. There's a whole region of Huckleberries."
Riley can't help but giggle.
"Y'all having some car trouble?"
"Yeah, just a flat." Lucas nods towards the rear of the van, crossing his arms and appraising it with the older man. "Figure it shouldn't take too long to fix, but it's mighty nice of you guys to stop by and check in on us."
"You want some help? Probably get the job done quicker."
"Sure, that'd be great."
The longer the two of them talk, the more his Southern drawl slowly creeps back into Lucas's voice. Riley can't help but find it adorable. Maya looks like she's about to lose it.
While Lucas leads the man over to grab the spare tire from the back, the wife of the couple walks over to join the girls.
"You really didn't have to stop and help," Maya says awkwardly, stuffing her hands in her pockets.
"Oh, of course we did," she says offhandedly, waving her off. "We saw you kids on the road here and we both agreed. Didn't even have to debate on it. Rob, he looked at me and he said, 'Andii, you see those kids there?' And I sure did. And here we are. Forgive me if you'd rather not say, but what are a trio of sweet kids like you doing driving along the '59 on your own?"
Riley smiles, keeping her arm linked with Maya's. "College road trip. Well, pre-college, I guess."
"Oh, you don't say? Well that's just swell." Andii tosses a glance to her husband, watching for a bit as he and Lucas start working on fixing the tire. "Looks like you got at least one guy who knows what he's doing. He your brother?"
It takes Maya a second to realize Andii is addressing her. She opens her mouth to correct her but hesitates, looking over her shoulder at Lucas behind her. After a moment, she smiles. "Yeah, he is. He's pretty cool."
Riley grins. Crazy, how different this trip to Texas already is.
She leaves Maya to chat with Andii and strides over to help with the tire, stooping down next to Lucas. She bumps his shoulder and he turns his head to smirk at her, nudging her back.
"Well, I'll tell ya," Rob says as they pull the ruined tire off and immediately get to work at situating the new one in its place. "You got yourself a resourceful young man right here. Y'all would've gotten on just fine whether we'd shown up or not."
Lucas smiles bashfully. Riley feels her heart swell with pride. "Yeah, I think he's a keeper."
"Now, you don't sound like you're from around here," Rob notes, giving her an intrigued eyebrow raise. "You a city girl?"
"New York City, born and raised."
"You must be a fan of those Northern sports teams then. Don't tell me you're a Giants fan."
"Good sir, I can list the things I love on this hand." Riley straightens up, holding up one of her hands. She points to each of her fingers as she goes on. "My friends. My family. This cowboy right here. Pluto. And the New York Knicks."
Lucas dips his head down, biting his lip to keep from laughing. Rob gives her an amused grin, full of good-natured fun. "So long as you aren't an Eagles fan, you and I are gonna get along just fine."
Rob helps them secure the new tire and then pack up the tools. He offers to take the ruined tire as well, as he works part-time at a car repair shop and can dispose of it easily. Riley and Lucas thank him and Andii a thousand times over, Maya nodding along.
When they climb back in the car and get going back on the road, Riley glances at the clock. 5:30. They should be able to get to Pappy's Joe well before dark.
Glancing out at the sun just starting to set, she's in awe of how beautifully golden the world around them looks. Nothing but miles and miles of gilded road.
She looks over her shoulder from the passenger seat. Maya is already back at work on her sketch. "Hey, Peaches."
Her eyes linger on the page for a second longer. She raises an eyebrow inquisitively.
"We're gold."
Maya's expression falters slightly as the memory hits her. Her features soften considerably, a small smile forming on her lips.
"Yeah, honey, we are."
When they finally pull into Pappy Joe's driveway the sun is just setting below the horizon line, the last bits of daylight seeing them through until they put the car in park and kill the engine.
The first thing that catches Riley's attention is the barking.
A huge, rowdy hound comes bolting out the front door and leaping down the steps, ramming into Lucas the minute he hops out of the van. He laughs and wrestles with it for a few seconds, dropping down to his knees and letting it lick his face in greeting. Despite appearing rather intimidating at first glance and with such a loud bark, Lucas doesn't seem at all nervous towards the dog.
Maya points at it, exchanging a look with Riley. "That's new, right?"
Lucas turns his delighted grin up to gaze at her and she feels every piece of her instantaneously melt. Every once and a while she forgets how passionately he loves animals, and it's always a stunning moment when she's reminded.
Riley wanders over to him, hesitantly holding out her hands for the dog to smell. "Who is this?"
"Sheila. Pappy Joe got her a couple years ago when he needed a little more help keeping track of the horses. Also, figure she keeps him company." He gets to his feet, watching happily as Riley leans down to scratch Sheila behind the ears. "She's an Anatolian Shepherd. Real sturdy, very strong."
"She's a queen," Riley agrees, giving Sheila an open-mouthed smile.
"Now, there's only one reason Sheila would be barking up a storm like that," Pappy Joe booms from the porch, eyes lighting up proudly seeing his grandson standing in the yard with his dog. "Looks like someone made it home."
Lucas smiles and jogs over as Pappy Joe makes his way down the steps, accepting the embrace he gives him. Considering how uncertain and disjointed their relationship was the last time Riley was here, she's so grateful to see how much their dynamic has improved.
Pappy Joe slaps him on the shoulder, shaking him slightly when they pull apart. "Glad you made it here in one piece."
"Me too."
"Come on over, ladies, don't be shy," Pappy Joe says, lumbering over to them and heading towards the back of the van. "Let's get y'all unpacked. Dylan's going to be here any minute yanking you out to the city so we best hurry fast."
The four of them manage to grab all their things in one trip, Sheila prancing around their legs as they make their way into the house. Pappy Joe directs Maya and Riley to the stairs to deposit their stuff in the guest room they're sharing, Lucas disappearing down the hall the other way to the room that's practically been his since he was a kid.
When Riley descends back down the steps and takes in the living room again, a weird sense of nostalgia washes over her. It's not unpleasant like she expected it would be, considering the consequences of their last trip here.
Eighth grade happened, yes. But everything happens for a reason. Here they are, everything having fallen into place. She could stand in the exact same spot and relive it—looking Lucas in the eyes, kissing his cheek, telling him they were just friends. More like siblings.
As if that were ever actually true.
Lucas and Maya parade down the stairs a couple of seconds later, breaking her out of her memories. Without thinking, Lucas links his hand in hers the moment he's close enough to touch her.
She and Lucas are now very good at holding hands. And they've never been good at being just friends.
"You know, I gotta say," Pappy Joe says, meandering back into the room and reclining back into the armchair by the couch. "I'm a little disappointed the scrappy New York intellectual isn't here. Would've loved to see how he turned out. And Zay, of course."
"He turned out just fine," Riley assures him, smiling. "Actually, he's going to school in the South."
Pappy Joe lets out a resounding laugh. "Well, best of luck to him! So, how was the drive?"
"Okay, not a lot of trouble," Lucas says with a shrug. Riley leads the way to couch and they settle down on it. Pappy Joe observes their interlaced hands with a tickled twinkle in his eye. "We had a flat along '59, but luckily some folks stopped and gave us a hand."
"It was wild. Truly crazy," Maya says, hopping onto the armrest next to Lucas and propping her elbow on the back of the couch. "I swear, I gotta get back in touch with my Southern roots. All of this is so shocking to me."
Pappy Joe raises his eyebrows. Riley knows that he's always found Maya entertaining, to say the least. She's the next biggest character of their group after Farkle. "Southern roots?"
"Well, you know, since you're my Pappy and all that. You do remember making that offer all those years ago, don't you? Also, me and Lucas are big time siblings now." She ruffles Lucas's hair, earning a swipe from him that she narrowly dodges. "Like, best brother ever. Mm, well, not best. Mediocre. Average. Best average brother ever."
Pappy Joe shakes his head, grinning at Riley. "Well, good thing she figured that out, huh?"
Outside, a car door slams. Sheila gets up from the floor next to Pappy Joe and launches into barks, skidding towards the door and jumping at it defensively.
"Well, here they come. Y'all best get ready."
"Where is he?" a vaguely familiar voice shouts from outside. Footsteps jog up the porch steps and there's a knock at the door. Then another. Then many at once. "Lucas Friar! Lucas Friar, get your ass to the door this instant!"
The three of them get to their feet, Lucas heading over to answer. He tosses a look over his shoulder to Riley and Maya. "You ready?"
They nod, gesturing for him to go on. After a second of hesitation, Lucas pulls open the front door.
It's pure spectacle watching Lucas's original Texas friends storm into the house. One of the boys propels through the doorway and tackles Lucas with a hug, nearly knocking him over.
Vanessa and the other boy, slightly shorter and with close-cropped strawberry blonde hair, make their way over to the girls. Riley tugs Maya forward to meet them halfway.
Riley is a little struck by how beautiful Vanessa is. Sure, she was pretty when they met her back in eighth grade, but just like the rest of them she's grown up into someone truly gorgeous. She gives both of them a knowing smile. "Riley. Maya. Good to see you guys again."
"Sure is," Maya agrees. "Especially since you actually know who we are now and I'm not having an identity crisis. Seriously, wouldn't recommend it."
The boy smiles genially at both of them, before holding his hand out to Riley. She recognizes him from the campaign video in seventh grade—soft features and kind eyes and a slight blush to his cheeks—but she isn't sure which one is which. "I'm Asher. Please tell me I'm right in assuming you're Riley."
"That's me," she says happily, shaking his hand excitedly. "It's so cool to meet you. Lucas has said so much about you."
"Wicked, considering I was gonna say the exact same thing to you."
The other boy—Dylan, she now knows—finally releases Lucas from his bear hug. He looks more noticeably different from his seventh grade self than Asher, having found a suitable haircut and having lost his remaining baby fat on his cheeks.
He takes Lucas's face in his hands. "Look at this face. Look at this face! Can't believe it's been eighty-four years since I last seen this mug."
"Relax, Dyl. Boy's gotta breathe."
Dylan grins widely and slides over to the rest of them, bowing to Riley and Maya. "Ladies. Pleasure to finally meet you both. Who's who?"
"Maya." She introduces herself, holding out her hand.
He shakes it enthusiastically. "Heard a lot about you. Which means you must be Riley."
Riley nods, accepting his hand shake. "That's what they call me."
"Heard a lot about you too. A lot. I mean, a lot. Too much. I know too much." He tugs her forward slightly, putting on the theatrics and giving her a desperate look. "Please, put me out of my misery before I have to hear Lucas tell me how soft your hands are again."
"Okay, I think that's enough for introductions," Lucas says, pulling Dylan back by the shoulders. He pats them, giving his friend a warning smile.
Asher grins at all of them, nodding. "We should get going, I bet you guys are starving. We're gonna take you to this one dive Vanessa is obsessed with since she claims she's the only one of us with any class."
Vanessa shrugs. "I call it like I see it. Only problem is we have to take Asher's piece-of-shit minivan, so prepare for that."
"Her name is Rhonda, and she doesn't appreciate it when you talk about her in such a degrading manner."
The group of them head out, Dylan leading the way. Maya follows right after him, charmed by his vibrant energy.
Asher takes a moment to exchange a hug with Lucas, less exaggerated than Dylan's but just as full of fondness. It warms Riley's heart, not only knowing there are people who love and appreciate Lucas Friar just as much as she does, but getting to witness it firsthand.
When they break apart, Asher gives him a curious look. "You doing better?"
Lucas hesitates, then nods reassuringly. The smile on his face is genuine. "Yeah. Working on it."
Riley steps forward and joins them, finding Lucas's hand and lacing their fingers together. He beams warmly at her, making her stomach flip.
Asher smirks at them both before nodding towards the door. "Shall we go?"
"We shall," Riley declares. She links her arm through Asher's and leads him out the door, pulling Lucas along behind them.
Dinner with the Texas friends is an entertaining endeavor. Riley didn't believe there could be another friend group as wacky and unique as her own, but spending just one night with Lucas, Vanessa, Dylan and Asher proves that theory very wrong. It leaves her thinking about how many little pockets of friends there must be that exist just like she does with hers, little families of quirkiness and drama and energy and love. All over the country—all over the world.
Her galaxy is just one of many in the infinite universe, and that thought comforts her.
Vanessa is full of wit and ambition, reminding Riley so much of Zay and a little bit of Smackle. She keeps the boys in check, calling them on their bullshit and acting as fact-checker to all of Dylan's random outbursts and declarations. It's on this trip to Texas that Riley learns Vanessa is just as beautiful inside as she is on the outside. She's thrilled to discover that she'll be going to Texas A&M as well, so Lucas already has an ally going forward. She doesn't feel as though she's leaving him completely abandoned.
Dylan Orlando is one of the liveliest, most vivacious personalities Riley has ever had the pleasure of meeting, and she's known Maya for most of her life. She gets a kick out of watching him and Maya goof off all evening long, feeding off of each other's mischievous vigor and throwing good-natured digs at Lucas for a laugh or two. Dylan finds the nickname Huckleberry absolutely hysterical, and Maya's evening is made when he tells her that the group of them used to call Lucas Cowlick.
"Haven't you ever noticed he's always got like three pieces of hair on the back of his head that won't stay down? Yeah, well, when he was younger it was worse. Like, it always looked like one of those cattle back on Asher's farm gave him a bath. It was horrible. But super funny."
Riley's evening is made when she learns that Asher is attending NYU for journalism. She excitedly tells him all about it and promises that she'll show him around and be his personal New York guide when they meet up upon her return.
"Uh oh, Lucas," Maya says pointedly, wiggling her eyebrows. "Better watch out."
"Oh, he doesn't have to worry about that," Dylan comments. "Asher is hella gay."
Asher Garcia is also one of the nicest, most endearing people Riley has ever met. He's relatively soft-spoken and rather observant, allowing his friends to do a majority of the talking. But noticing how fondly he looks at his best friends, Riley has no doubt that he is just as important to their dynamic as the rest of them. In a lot of ways, she looks at Asher and sees herself.
After dinner, Asher drives them around downtown Austin to show them the nightlife. Vanessa instructs Lucas which station to tune the radio to, her and Dylan dancing animatedly in the very back and singing along to the music. Maya encourages Asher to open the sun roof, unbuckling her seatbelt and pulling Riley up with her to stare out at the lights.
Standing tightly with Maya, the wind whipping her face and the city of Austin zooming past her in a brilliant flash of light and color, Riley can imagine growing up somewhere else other than New York. She can imagine growing up here, or in any city where these pockets of friends exist and there's music and color and cars to drive down the highway.
When she collapses back into her seat, Asher says something she doesn't catch. But it doesn't matter that she didn't hear it. All that matters is the pure, unfiltered laughter that escapes Lucas's lips, and the joyful expression on his face. Even if she had grown up in another city, with another pocket of friends, she hopes that she would always end up falling into Lucas Friar's lap and get to experience that laughter and that joy.
Despite the exhausting task of driving all day and the exhilarating events of the night out, Riley finds herself unable to sleep when they head to bed that night. Maya is knocked out cold next to her, having crashed practically the moment they got back to the guest room.
All she can do is lay there, feeling a strange combination of happiness and dread. Happiness for the way things have panned out so far, the welcoming aura of Pappy Joe's place, the adoration on the faces of Lucas's childhood friends as they pulled the three of them into their world. Dread for what's waiting at the end of the weekend, the goodbye that's rearing its ugly head just beyond the horizon.
She knows she's lucky she gets a whole extra day. A whole weekend to prepare. But it's still keeping her up at night.
Restless and knowing she won't be falling asleep any time soon, Riley climbs out of bed as quietly as she can and pads towards the door. She steps out into the hall and tip-toes down the stairs, looking for a distraction.
She nearly jumps out of her skin when she finds another figure still awake. Pappy Joe is still seated in the armchair, reading a book and enjoying a mug of hot chocolate before bed. Sheila rests tiredly at his feet, hiding her nose under her paws.
He gives Riley an amused smile as she flinches at his presence. "Everything alright there?"
"Yeah. Sorry," she murmurs, clasping her hands together nervously. "I was just… um…"
"No worries. Sheila and I here were just getting ready for bed. I'm assuming you must be having a spot of trouble getting some shut eye, considering you're wandering about at this hour."
Riley shrugs, tilting her head back and forth noncommittally.
He chuckles, rising to his feet and gesturing for her to take over the living area. "Feel free to entertain yourself with any of the films set by the television. Remote is on the table there. Hope you find some rest soon."
"Thanks," she says timidly, smiling down at Sheila as she patters past her to follow Pappy Joe up the stairs. Riley waits until she hears his bedroom door shut to move, heading over to kneel in front of the unassuming television set.
It's a shock to see a VCR rather than a DVD player, and the stack of movies on the shelf are of the VHS variety rather than CDs. Riley can't remember the last time she watched a VHS. It's weird, how quickly little things like that slip away from her.
None of the movies are familiar or appeal much to her outright, so she pulls a few off the shelf to check the ones stacked in the back. When she pulls one out and takes a look at it, she's confused to find a blank VHS case staring back at her. Opening it, a plain tape with a handwritten label on it greets her.
Lucas – First Day of School.
Riley hesitates, not entirely sure she's actually holding what she thinks she's holding. She places the tape gently on the floor next to her, reaching back further into the cabinet and pulling out the other blank cases hidden away. She collects about five in total, confirming that all of them bear completely empty cases and similarly handwritten titles.
Taking a chance, she takes First Day of School and pops it into the VCR, grabbing the remote and making sure the volume is down low before pressing play. She can hear the tape whirring in the device. She realizes she's holding her breath.
The screen is black for a few seconds, then the familiar scenery of Pappy Joe's living room appears on the screen. A second passes of someone muttering some words Riley doesn't catch with the volume so low. Suddenly, a smaller, livelier Lucas Friar darts across the screen, running from the kitchen into the living room and jumping onto the couch.
"Lucas? Lucas, where you going?" The voice behind the camera is feminine, but too old to be Grace.
Lucas whips around from looking over the back of the couch and flashes a grin. One of his teeth is missing. "I'mma go to school!"
Riley feels rooted to the spot. It's surreal, seeing Lucas exist in such a young and enthusiastic form. Not held back by anything from his past—there's no past to be held back by yet. Not burdened by his own self-doubt. Just him, little and bright-eyed and full of toothy grins.
She finally manages to remind herself how to move, grabbing the remote and a throw from the back of the couch. She bundles herself up in the blanket and raises the volume a couple of clicks, settling in to watch.
The camera asks him a few more questions about the day ahead, if he's excited and what he's going to do at pre-school. Lucas responds enthusiastically to each query, talking so animatedly that he has to take dramatic pauses to breathe. He keeps tripping over his own words but tumbles right along, rambling unreservedly as he bounces back and forth on the couch cushions.
Riley absentmindedly wonders when he learned to keep quiet. What it was that taught him that his voice wasn't worth hearing.
"Yesterday, mama went to the store and got me a new pack," Lucas explains breathlessly, bounding off the couch and leading the camera towards the front door. He picks up a tiny blue backpack off the floor, holding it out for the person to see. "So I'm gonna bring that. And then I'm wearing my new…" He catches his breath. "My new shirt, because it's blue and blue is my favorite color an' stuff."
He rambles on for another minute or so until a younger and fresher Pappy Joe emerges from the stairs on screen, greeting Lucas cheerfully and asking where his mother is. He informs him that his mama is in the kitchen and that his dad couldn't come this morning because he had to work.
Although the moment passes without comment in the video, a small part of Riley stings a bit at this matter-of-fact statement from the young Lucas on display in front of her. Maybe it didn't seem like much at the time, but she knows how much the absence of his father messed with him. She wishes she could reach into the television and protect him from it, from any and all of the stuff that's going to happen to him in the years ahead.
He's unfazed, hopping towards the camera person excitedly and laughing right into the camera. Riley can't help but grin in spite of herself, hiding her face halfway beneath the blanket.
She watches the rest of the tape in full, watching tiny Lucas have a birthday party (with a tiny version of Asher in attendance), go to a fair of some kind, and open presents on Christmas morning. As sappy as she is, she's impressed that she only cries about three times.
Once the first tape is done, she sets it to rewind and chooses from the others at her disposal. Thinking about how she's eager to see other familiar faces, she picks one of the later tapes in the set and pops it in the VCR, returning comfortably back to her burrow on the couch.
This one opens with a birthday party, indicating that Lucas has just turned seven. Riley almost gasps out loud when she sees a tiny Zay Babineaux has joined the clique of Lucas's childhood inner circle, seated one on side of Lucas while Asher sits on the other. They're getting ready to blow out candles.
Zay inhales deeply and looks as though he's going to steal the moment from Lucas, when a younger Donna Babineaux appears on screen and leans over her son's shoulder to scold him. He grins sheepishly, shrugging at the camera.
"Make a wish, Lucas!" the voice behind the camera encourages. The gathered children join in, Asher banging his small fists on the table as he chants the command over and over again. Lucas presses his fingers together, making a big show of deliberating on what important thing to wish for.
"Blow out the candles already!" Zay shouts, making Riley laugh at how high and screechy his voice sounds. A far cry from the nearly grown man she knows today.
"Having fun?"
It takes Riley an embarrassingly long time to realize the question exists in reality and not in the world from the past she was so absorbed in. She glances over her shoulder.
Lucas—the actual one she knows and loves—smirks at her as he finishes coming down the stairs. He's dressed for bed in his t-shirt and sweats, hair unkempt. He looks tired, but in a completely ordinary way. The same tired she's feeling. Nothing like the exhaustion she's become so skilled at noticing in his features.
"I am," she admits, watching him as he pads over to join her. She pauses the tape as he climbs onto the couch next to her, squinting at the television in an attempt to figure out what life event of his she's vicariously living. "Are you okay?"
"Oh, yeah," he says, shrugging. "Just couldn't sleep."
Riley tilts her head at him. She certainly knows the feeling.
He doesn't elaborate further, indicating the issue isn't any deeper than her own inability to sleep. He drapes his arm over the back of the couch behind her and she naturally scoots closer to him, leaning into his side and resting her head against his chest.
"What are you watching?"
"Your entire life. You just turned seven. Congratulations."
Lucas hums in recognition. "You may not want to keep watching this one."
"What?" Riley gives him a curious look. "Why not?"
"Just trust me," he says distantly, propping his feet up on the coffee table.
"Well, if you're not going to tell me, then I don't see why I shouldn't," she coos, raising her eyebrows at him teasingly. He shrugs in response, raising a hand in surrender.
"Look, I tried. I tried to warn you."
She hums at him, bringing up hand up to his lips and silencing him as she presses play on the remote.
The two of them watch him go through the school year, the camera capturing various school functions and his first little league game. When he runs up to the camera and shows off his bat, Riley leans up and presses a kiss to Lucas's jaw.
"You're cute," she murmurs.
"Thanks."
By the time the tape reaches summer, it finally becomes clear why Lucas suggested she skip the rest. They've come up to the day Lucas is gearing up to ride Judy the Sheep, and Riley has to watch the whole event go horribly wrong. She has to watch a seven year old fall off a sheep. She watches all of his family members present go from proud to awkward in the aftermath.
And worst of all, she has to watch Lucas go from upbeat and excited to sobbing and embarrassed, caught on footage and forever immortalized.
"Mabel, turn that off. Come on, turn it off."
The last shot is young Lucas's tearful face. Then, the tape ends.
Riley sits in silence for a long moment, trying to get the image of him crying out of her head. She feels like it's going to stay there forever, engrained in her memory along with the more recent instances of seeing just the same expression on his face. Although he's older, wiser, more worn down, there are pieces of his appearance when he's crying that look exactly the same as they did when he was seven. Apparently, some things don't change with age.
She lifts her eyes to look at him. He gazes at her expectantly.
"How could you let me watch that?"
Lucas drops his jaw, nudging her slightly. "No, no, no. I tried to warn you. I'm not taking the fall for this one."
"I know, I know," she says guiltily. She turns off the television and places the remote back on the table. "Guess I should listen to you more."
"Well, I'm not gonna argue with that."
Riley smiles sheepishly, lifting her head up to kiss his cheek. He wraps his arm more tightly around her shoulders, tilting her chin slightly so he can lock their lips together.
She doesn't think she'll ever get over how kissing Lucas Friar feels. Like summer rain and the grey-blue sunrise and coming home.
"Why are you up anyway?" he whispers, nudging their foreheads together and brushing some hair behind her ear. He brushes his thumb across her cheekbone. "You look tired."
"Same as you," she breathes. "Couldn't sleep."
He examines her for a moment, leaning forward to kiss her slowly. When he pulls away she instinctively goes in for another one, not questioning it when he reclines back against the arm of the couch and pulls her down with him.
Situating more comfortably, Riley cuddles between him and the back of the couch. She always feels a little bad when they adjust like this for laying half on top of him, but he never has any complaints and she knows he'd express them if he did.
Lucas reaches up to turn off the lamp on the side table as Riley frees herself from the blanket to drape it over both of them, tucking her head against the crook of his neck. She feels him kiss the top of her head, grinning into his shirt as his fingers begin to comb their way through her hair.
"Who's Mabel?"
"Huh?"
"Mabel, the name at the end of the video." She drapes her arm over his torso, hugging him. "The one always behind the camera, I'm assuming."
"Ah, yes. Mabel Friar, love of Pappy Joe's life and grandmother to yours truly."
Riley always feels a deep sense of pride when she learns something new about Lucas's life. She wants to know everything about him. She wants to be able to write a biography about him, or an encyclopedia, or ten encyclopedias. An entire box set. "What was she like?"
"I don't remember a whole lot, but she was Pappy Joe's whole world. They met when they were young and all that. High school sweethearts. She was kind of like Topanga, I think. The real brains of the operation, the one running the show." He pauses, evidently trying to remember. "But I think Pappy Joe liked it that way. That was what he liked most about her."
Riley absorbs this, smiling absentmindedly when Lucas presses his lips against her forehead. She lets her eyes drift closed. "What do you remember about her?"
"Not a whole lot."
"Okay, but there must be something. Like, when I say Mabel, when I mention your grandmother, what's the first thing you think of?"
"Toothpaste," he says without thinking.
Riley opens her eyes and tilts her head back to give him a weird look.
He waits a moment before meeting her eyes, laughing shyly at the expression on her face. "I know that's weird. But it's true."
The loving smile that drifts across her face is so natural she wonders how she ever survived a day on Earth without knowing him. "Tell me about it."
"When I was younger," he begins, continuing to run his fingers through her hair. "Any time I was sad, or frustrated, or angry, my grandma would always tell me the same thing. She'd tell me to go brush my teeth. Like, no matter what the reason or the situation, if I was in a bad mood or my temper flared, she'd make me go brush my teeth."
Riley gazes at him, admiring his thoughtful expression. "Why?"
"I don't know," he admits. "I think because it gave me something to do. Sort of like a distraction, you know? And in some ways, it felt like cleaning something up. Even if the thing I was mad about couldn't be easily fixed, at least brushing my teeth was productive. I guess that's what she was going for, getting me to channel my emotions into something else. I never got to ask her."
She figured as much. Considering the tapes abruptly stop after age seven, she has a pretty good hunch she knows what happened to her.
"I don't know, it was weird." He stares at the wall across from them, before dropping his gaze down to match hers. "But I always had super nice teeth."
"Oh, I'm sure," Riley giggles. He grins, showing off said teeth with his signature dazzling smile.
She laughs harder and sits up slightly to kiss him. They stay pressed together for a long moment, both of them slouching back against the couch when they break for breath.
For the first time that night, she feels as though she could get some sleep. Lucas tilts his head against hers, obviously thinking the same thing.
"It's obvious she loved you a lot," Riley murmurs, tracing patterns on his arm with her fingertips.
He hums in agreement, closing his eyes. "She did."
"Your girlfriend loves you a lot, too," Riley whispers, letting her eyes drift closed again.
It's silent for a few moments. She wonders if maybe he's fallen asleep. But after a minute or so, he whispers a response after a soft hum of agreement.
"She does."
She tries not to think about how she's only got a weekend left. She tries not to think about how many miles are going to be between them. Right now, she just wants to focus on his heartbeat and his fingers in her hair and how close they are—no miles between them at all.