A/N: I'm sorry this is so short! But a lot happens so that kinda makes up for it! I'm going to continue doing this cause you guys clearly want me to and cause I don't wanna be a quitter. I'm almost done with this... I've got the storyline planned out as for the shit that goes down at graduation but I have no idea how I'm gonna resolve things. Enjoy and leave a review :)
Chapter 12
Lucas POV
"So then she was like, 'My parents aren't home!'" Zay announced to the crowd of hungry freshmen in the hallway, who were absolutely devouring his story. The crowd erupted into laughter, as they gawked at Zay, who was casually pushing and pulling books and folders out of his locker while telling his story. Standing next to him uncomfortably, I folded my arms over my chest, for I've always had some personal space issues, and there were about 46 freshmen drenched in bodily odors standing around me.
When I saw Riley, who looked absolutely drained walking down the hallway, I quickly left Zay, and ran to catch up with her.
"Riley," I said, flustered, "I've been meaning to ask you something."
She didn't look up, just continued looking straight ahead as she dodged people left and right coming down the hall.
"We-well, I just wanted to ask about what you were doing Friday night. You know, before the movie."
This caught her attention.
"Why would you ask me this now?" the brunette snapped, speeding up a bit, as if I wouldn't notice. Struggling to keep up, I said,
"It just never crossed my mind Saturday. Were you-"
"-I was walking home with Farkle. Big deal."
She shoved past a sophomore, with big dorky glasses and a stack of books piled in his arms, and cut sharp to turn into Chemistry for first period. Following, I grabbed her arm, stopping her before she sat down,
"Riley, is something going on?"
"You're just- being different. I feel like you're jealous, or something."
I swallowed, and took a deep breath, trying to calmly rationalize with her in a civilized fashion in front of Mrs. Consolas.
"That- no. I'm not. I'm just concerned. If you needed someone to walk you home so badly, why couldn't you have just asked me?"
"Why couldn't you have offered?"
I felt my cheeks burn, as they turned red and all the eyes of the classroom were on me. I took another breath, slowly sitting down and forfeiting this battle.
"I didn't know, I-"
"It's not a big deal. Really."
Riley walked away from our lab table, dropping her books next to Farkle's, and smiled as she turned in her seat to face him.
Maya's POV
I had a spring in my step today, this fine Friday afternoon, as I'd completed the day with zero bullshit and a very light heart. Optimism was radiating throughout my body as I'd entered the auditorium for graduation practice, seeing Riley already there with Lucas by her side and Farkle not-so-casually leaning against the wall, trying to get her attention. Approaching them, not forgetting to swiftly give Farkle my notorious side eye, I threw my bag on the seat in front of Riley and Lucas, and smiled.
"Have you ordered your cap and gown yet?" Riley quickly asked, a cloud of gloom and anxiety sitting over her as her eyebrows were furrowed and her foot tapped anxiously on the carpeted floor.
"No, I-"
"Mr. Mulligan is pissed. He said we were supposed to have them in by Wednesday, Wednesday, and I haven't even placed my order for a yearbook yet," Riley groaned, rubbing her eyes and throwing her head back.
Mr. Mulligan was our senior class advisor. He was an average looking man; around 50, divorced, permanent sweat stains under every dress shirt he owned, and wore a sweater vest to school everyday. He was just that guy.
"I wouldn't worry too much about it, Riley."
Her eyes looked dark and her body weary. Lucas tried wrapping his arm around her, but she resisted, pulling away and quickly crossing her legs. Awkwardly pulling back, he looked around the room, whistled a bit, and then found his escape route, claiming he had to go get his Calculus homework from his locker.
As he left, I shot Riley an intense look, but she refused to make eye contact. I nudged her shoulder, and lazily, she turned her attention to my direction.
"What's up?"
"I just told you," she retorted, impatiently.
"Has something gotten into you?"
And she didn't answer. She just looked around the room, humming quietly, tapping her foot restlessly, ignoring me, but very clearly answering my question.
Lucas POV
"The Great Gatsby," Mrs. Day announced, quite loud over the blaring air conditioner in the stuffy classroom, "is remembered to this day because of the careless mistakes of Tom Buchanan," she cleared her throat, "and Daisy Buchanan."
The classroom as a whole was bored. It was over 90 degrees outside, us seniors had a measly two weeks left, and Mrs. Day had been talking about The Great Gatsby for three months now. It was getting old.
"Daisy was the typical woman of that generation. She was careless, flirtatious, scared and naive. But, deep down, she knew what she wanted. And accepted that no matter what, she would never be able to be with Gatsby, not in the generation in which she lived."
Riley, in the front of the classroom, squirmed in her seat awkwardly. Her foot starting bouncing, again, restlessly, and Maya, who had a glossy forehead and looked uneasy in this heat, turned to give her the look.
"Feelings, love– these are all more important than any societal expectations or labels women are required to meet. And we, as woman today, we're lucky we aren't growing up in such a harsh time. What Daisy did was not right, but could you blame her? So much was put on her, and even if she were to decide later in her life to leave Tom, it was too late. He was gone. Forever."
Maya blinked. She turned in her seat away from Riley and to Mrs. Day, who was sitting on her desk with an expression of sorrow.
"This novel is essentially about not letting the right one get away. And from Daisy's carelessness, she did let the right one get away," Mrs. Day adjusted herself in her seat and pulled her neck collar away, allowing for some breeze, "Class dismissed."
2:30 p.m.
Walking amongst the halls aimlessly, waiting for the busses to clear out of the parking lot, I went to Riley's locker. She looked up at me, giving a meek smile.
"Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I'll be walking you home tonight. From the animal shelter."
"Oh, I'm not going tonight. Just, uh, taking the night off. Need a little time to myself to think about some stuff."
She closed her locker, quietly, and began to walk with me.
"Oh. That's cool. So, next time I will, I guess."
She blandly laughed, and the hallway was silent, with just the sound of our shoes clicking and clacking on the tile floor.
"I'm sorry I'm not as great of a boyfriend as I'd like to be," I began, awkwardly, "and as you'd obviously like me to be. But I'm working on it, I promise. I want to be like Farkle, talking to you all the time and walking you home and just being so-great."
Riley's eyes widened, but she continued to listen.
"And you know, it's just hard for me, because I have so many sports and stuff. But I love you, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes for us to work."
She just nodded, again, and continued walking.
"So?"
She looked over at me, and just muttered under her breath,
"Yeah."
9:57 p.m.
At nearly 10:00, I yawned, stretched, and headed to bed, after a fairly boring night with my mother and her friends drinking some wine. Taking off my shirt and getting into bed, my phone rang, and I smiled when seeing Riley's name appear on my screen.
"Hey, babe," I whispered, jumping into bed and laying on my side.
She was quiet for a few moments, as the only thing I could hear was her heavy breathing.
"Riley?"
"L-lucas…" she began, her voice cracking and her tone shaky, "I need to tell you something."
I sat up, my heart racing through my chest and my head starting to spin with possibilities.
"Why don't we just talk? I can come over right now-"
"-There's," she took a deep breath, which I presumed was Riley regaining her composure and not bursting into tears over the phone, "there's nothing to talk about, Lucas."
Her friendly, sympathetic tone sharply contrasted the matter at hand, whether it was about us or something else that clearly upset her.
"I can't just sit here knowing that you're crying, somewhere. Where are you Riley? I need to see you."
"I can't see you right now. And I'm not upset, Lucas," she paused again, sniffling, "I can't do this."
"Can't do what? Talk on the phone? Riley, I'll be at your house in 15, just hang tight-"
"-No, I-I can't do us."
My heart dropped, waiting for her to continue, waiting for her to give me some sort of explanation, but she was completely silent.
"I didn't think doing this would be so hard, " she said, with a laugh, but I didn't reciprocate.
"I'm sorry, I-"
"Why are you doing this?" I blurted out, raging with anger, sadness, jealousy, sorrow. I clenched my fists, as my eyes pooled with tears and my face increasingly grew warmer.
"Mrs. Day, she-she was right today. About following our hearts when we're young, and all that-"
"-Riley that's, you can't take that sentimental stuff seriously. We love each other. I love you. That's all that matters, right?"
"It's not."
I stood up, pacing around my room, looking for the right words to say to fix this. And when Riley took a deep breath, which I assumed was to say goodbye, I grabbed something, anything, (which just so happened to be the glass on my nightstand) and threw it. It shattered, glass shards going everywhere, and I let out a cry.
"Lucas?"
"I gotta go, Riley."
