OK, Hotshot
The last school dance of the year at Abigail Adams High always had a special theme. When Riley and her friends were freshmen, the theme had been "Colors of the Rainbow." The freshmen girls were instructed to wear red, and that was when Riley figured out just how much Lucas liked Maya. When they were sophomores, the theme was "Matching T-Shirts." It wasn't an exciting theme, but Riley and Zay, her constant pity date, wore matching bunny rabbit t-shirts and made a night of it. Zay had even requested that the DJ play the Bunny Hop, but the DJ wouldn't let him. They did the Bunny Hop to "Cake by the Ocean" instead.
Junior year was going to be different. For one thing, the theme was finally fun: Movie Characters. For another, Riley finally didn't have to depend on Zay as a pity date. By the time the dance rolled around, she'd been going with Farkle for two solid months. Her dad's lesson on revisionist history had been helpful that way. When the announcement for the theme of the dance went out, Riley and Farkle immediately knew which characters they should be.
"Marianne Dashwood and Colonel Brandon," Riley said.
"Agents Scully and Mulder," Farkle said.
"Farkle!"
"What?"
"Why would you suggest something like that? The X-Files isn't even a movie!"
"There was a movie! In 1998! It takes place between seasons five and six of the television series! And then there was The X-Files: I Want to Believe, released ten years after that! How do you not know this, Riley?"
"You know I won't watch that show with you. The episode where the little girls are murderers and try to poison the drinks makes me too upset."
"They're not little girls! Eves are clones with homicidal tendencies! How do you not remember this?"
"All I see are little girls, and I don't like it, Farkle. I don't like it."
The bell rang, and Riley and Farkle made their way into history class once again. Much to their surprise, Maya, Lucas, and Zay were already there.
"What are the three of you doing in class already?" Farkle asked.
"We're in this class, too," Lucas said.
"Yeah, but we're Riley and Farkle, heirs apparent to the Lawrence-Minkus competition for A's, and you're the cast of Woody's Round-Up."
"Do I get to be Bullseye?" Zay asked.
"You want to be the horse?" Maya asked.
"Well, I don't want to be Stinky Pete the Prospector. Dude's got his priorities all outta joint."
Smackle entered the room and took her seat, now next to Zay.
"You're not Stinky Pete unless it's meatloaf in the cafeteria," she said and sniffed the air. "Strange. Today is meatloaf in the cafeteria, and yet, you have not run to the lavatory in gastrointestinal pain."
"It's 'cause I finally got wise," Zay said. "Now, when it's meatloaf in the cafeteria, Zay brings himself a nice little pear-flavored yogurt from home."
Lucas chortled.
"Pear?" he asked.
"You got a problem with my nutrition, man?"
"No. I just think pear's a little … girly."
"Fruits aren't gendered, Lucas. We all need 'em. They're good for us. But fruits aren't gendered."
"Oh, I think you're forgetting about one very important fruit with a very specific gender," Maya said and gave Lucas the eye she'd been giving him for nearly five years. He braced himself for the punch line. She leaned forward in her seat and looked at him with arched eyebrows.
"Ain't that right, huckleberry?"
"Yeah, yeah," Lucas said as the bell rang for class to begin.
Cory entered the classroom with a plastic cup of yogurt in hand. Before he threw it in the garbage, he spun around and pointed at Zay.
"Thanks for the yogurt tip, Mr. Babineaux," he said. "You're right. There's just something about the pear that works."
Lucas and Zay exchanged the kind of glances one could only exchange with a friend they'd had for all their lives.
Meanwhile, Riley wasn't done berating Farkle for his bizarre choice in couples costume. She turned around in her seat and seethed at him.
"Why won't you even hear my idea for a couples costume?" she asked.
"I heard it," Farkle said. "I just don't think it encapsulates who we are."
"But it's Marianne and Brandon!"
"Yeah? And?"
"Farkle, Marianne and Brandon are two characters who fall in love in Sense and Sensibility. Their love is real and true because they understand each other. Don't you remember reading Sense and Sensibility in Harper's class back when we were in eighth grade?"
"I've never forgotten anything a day in my life," Farkle said. "Of course I remember Sense and Sensibility."
"And you remember me telling you that was when I started to realize you meant something a little different to me, even though I couldn't place what it was?"
Farkle turned a bit pink, and Riley was pleased with herself. She loved how she could fluster him.
"Of course I remember that, Riley. And I believe you."
Riley's face suddenly turned from cutely mischievous to concerned.
"Wait," she said. "You believe me?"
"Yeah," Farkle said. "I believe you."
"But what do you have to believe me about? Farkle, why would I have lied?"
Farkle, however, didn't get the chance to answer. Cory tapped loudly on the chalkboard to get his students to see what was written on it. It wasn't much – not even letters. Just four numbers in big, tall, white chalk that spelled out a year.
"1980," Cory said. "What happened?"
"You turned eighty!" Maya said.
Cory was aghast.
"I turned born!" he almost shrieked.
"And I turned bored. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. I'll be here all week."
"That's right, folks," Cory said. "Maya will be here all week. Be sure to catch her encore performance in detention after school today."
"Aww, for what?" Maya asked.
"For making me feel old."
Maya chuckled a little and sat back in her seat.
"1980 was a tumultuous year in history, both in America and the rest of the world," Cory said. "Does anybody know anything that happened in 1980?"
The whole class raised their hands.
"Besides that I was born?"
Everyone's hands went down, except for, of course, Farkle and Smackle. They looked at each other and smiled. It had been over a year since their mostly amicable breakup, and since Farkle had started dating Riley, their friendship had been (perhaps ironically) stronger than ever. Smackle said she appreciated his honesty, and she was always happy when he was happy. Farkle would never say so in front of Riley (though a part of him knew that she already understood), but it was everything he needed to hear from Smackle. He wasn't sure how he would have felt if she'd up and shunned him after he broke the news about his new relationship. He respected her too much as a colleague and as a friend to lose her.
"Ladies first," Cory said. "Smackle?"
"In 1980, Ronald Reagan defeated incumbent Jimmy Carter for the United States presidency," Smackle said. "Some political scientists would argue that our entire understanding of who 'deserves' to be President was altered in that very moment."
"Very interesting, Smackle," Cory said. "And you're right. Reagan was elected in 1980. That was a very significant event in both the United States and in the rest of the world. It's the kind of cultural memory you can't just forget."
He looked at Farkle.
"Farkle time?" he asked.
Farkle lowered his hand from the air and laughed a little.
"In December 1980, John Lennon was assassinated," he said.
"That's true," Cory said. "And you know where he was assassinated, don't you?"
Farkle nodded.
"Right here in New York City," he said. "I've taken myself down to Strawberry Fields in Central Park a number of times. The anniversary of John Lennon's death is Riley's birthday. She and I went down there when she turned sixteen."
Riley smiled. Even when she was miffed at Farkle, he was still the sweetest thing she'd ever known. He was the only one who hadn't teased her about confusing John Lennon and Vladimir Lenin back in eighth grade when she'd dabbled with Communism … and the only one who hadn't teased her when she developed an affinity for The Beatles (proper) shortly after her faux pas.
"Thank you, Farkle," Cory said. "The reason I'm asking you all to think about 1980 is because a lot of other history teachers want their students to focus only on the very distant past."
"The Civil Bore," Maya said, a hint of nostalgia in her voice.
"Yes, Maya, the Civil Bore," Cory said. "We can learn a lot about ourselves by thinking about our distant past. Think about how much we learned when we thought about Hamilton and Burr or Thomas Edison."
"Belgium 1831," Farkle piped up.
Cory smiled a bit.
"Yeah, that too," he said. "But there's more to history than just things that happened long before any of us …"
Cory saw Maya start to raise her eyebrows suspiciously.
"Including me," he said, "were born. Everyday, something significant unfolds before our very eyes."
"But we don't always notice it," Lucas said. "Why is that, sir?"
Before Cory could answer, he looked over at Riley and Farkle, still embroiled in their debate about movie couples and costumes for the school dance.
"I don't understand why you think Marianne and Brandon is a bad idea," Riley said.
"It's not that, Riley," Farkle said.
"Then what is it? Farkle, you don't have to be so vague with me. I'm listening. I'm always listening."
But Farkle didn't answer. He didn't think he quite knew how to answer. If he were to bring this up in front of Riley (something this old and something she was this tired of remembering), she'd surely call off their date to the dance. It was bad enough that his asking her hadn't been quite as big as he intended. He thought he'd bring her into the planetarium in his room, have her look up at Pluto, and say something along the lines of, "Riley, just like you'll never give up on Pluto, I'll never give up on you. Do you want to go to the dance with me?" But the universe was cruel, and his planetarium just wouldn't light up for an entire week. All the Minkus money in the world, and his planetarium wouldn't light up for an entire week. He couldn't explain it. His father couldn't explain it. No one could explain it. He knew if he didn't ask Riley by the end of that week, she might have to resort to writing, "Riley and Farkle: We're Just Friends" on the back of her notebook, and he didn't want to risk that. So he'd had no choice but to take her down to the subway, buy her an extra thick smoothie so she could eat it with a spoon, and recreate their first unofficial date from the seventh grade. Luckily for him, Riley's sentimentality was in full swing that day, and she'd been pretty pleased with the ask … but he knew it wasn't enough. He knew he'd wind up in the doghouse sooner or later. Answering her question there would have been nothing more than the fastest route there.
Cory looked away from Riley and Farkle and toward the rest of the class.
"So, here's tonight's simple assignment," he said. "When you go home tonight, find me a significant event in the world from 1980. Be prepared to tell me why it's significant."
"I don't get it," Maya said.
"What don't you get?" Lucas asked. "I think Mr. Matthews explained it pretty well."
"No, Huckleberry. I get the instructions. I just don't get it."
"What's that, Maya?" Cory asked.
"What's this got to do with them?" she asked, waving her hands toward Riley and Farkle, who had barely heard Cory's assignment about 1980.
"Farkle, you don't have to be distant about this, whatever it is," Riley was still begging. "I'm right here. Please look at me and let me know that you know I'm right here."
Farkle looked at Riley, but there was a pain in his eyes that she couldn't identify. That gave her pain that she didn't enjoy at all. There was almost nothing Riley hated more than Farkle was upset. She hated it even more when he wouldn't tell her why.
"I know," Farkle said.
Suddenly, out of seemingly nowhere, Smackle raised her hand.
"Yes, Smackle?" Cory asked.
"I just wanted to let you know that I completely understand," she said.
"Oh, ya do?"
"Certainly. As a matter of fact, I'm rather surprised Farkle hasn't figured it out for himself yet."
"Well, Smackle, you are the school's number-one genius," Lucas said.
"Stop hitting on me," Smackle urged.
"I'm just saying. I can't think of anyone who even rivals your genius."
Lucas leaned over to look at Farkle. Much to his disappointment and surprise, he hadn't gotten a rise out of his best friend after all. Farkle was far too engrossed in whatever was going on between him and Riley to take even the smallest swing at Lucas's playful barbs. Lucas backed down, a bit unsettled. Whatever this was, it was evidently pretty serious.
Cory's gaze flickered toward his daughter and her boyfriend, then back to Smackle.
"You say you know where this is headed, Smackle?" he asked.
"I most certainly do," she said.
"Are you gonna tell everybody else?"
"Educating the unenlightened is my favorite pastime. It's my honor."
Cory laughed.
"Does anyone have any questions about tonight's assignment about a historical event from 1980?" he asked the class.
"Yeah," Zay said. "Can it be about anything other than war or science? 'Cause I've been takin' history classes for a long time now, and it seems like everything's about war or science. There's gotta be more out there, man."
Cory laughed again.
"Smackle," he said. "Why don't you answer Mr. Babineaux's question after class?"
"Gladly," Smackle said.
Once again, Cory looked at Riley and Farkle, who hadn't taken their eyes off one another since the class began. He was sure they hadn't heard a word he said. That was OK, he figured. They were Riley and Farkle. They were good at figuring things out.
"The two of you OK?" Cory asked, even though he knew the answer.
But Riley and Farkle wanted no part of anyone but themselves – especially Riley.
"Farkle," she said. "I don't like this. I don't even know how it got started. Will you just tell me how it got started so we can get out of it? Please?"
"I don't know, Riley," Farkle said. His voice was the kind of husky that Riley feared most – the kind of husky that suggested he was close to crying.
Riley sat back in her seat, finally taking her eyes off Farkle for the first time since they'd walked into her father's classroom. She and Farkle had been together for months (and, really, their entire lives), and this was the first time since he was being bullied in seventh grade when she didn't know what was the matter with him. It bothered her – gnawed at her, really. He was always honest with her unless it was so painful that he had to keep it from her. It had knocked the wind out of her when she found out that he was being bullied, but that was years earlier. In adolescent temporality, it was lifetimes earlier. Whatever it was now had to be unconscionable.
She took a deep breath. In the midst of her staring at and pleading with Farkle, she'd heard a little bit of her dad's assignment for the night. She was supposed to look up a historical event from 1980. There was some solace in that, she figured. Not that she had any idea what he was really up to. She almost never did – not right away, anyhow. But surely she'd find something to solve the problem. He wouldn't have assigned it any other way.
From the corner of her eye, she looked over at Farkle one more time. Good. He was still looking back at her. She took comfort in that. As long as he could still meet her eye, they would be OK. She might have learned to take off the Smiley Riley persona every now and again, but she didn't lose what really made her Riley: the ability to always find the love in people.
And she would always find the love in Farkle. That was what she was there for.
After school, she and Farkle retreated to Topanga's, where they normally got together and did their homework with all of their friends. But that day, when the last bell rang, Maya told them that everyone thought it was best if just Riley and Farkle went to the bakery to do their homework that day. They would all catch up the next day, she said, but it was important for Riley and Farkle to talk through whatever was going on between them. It was important for them to figure out the purpose of this assignment together.
"Do you know?" Riley asked.
"Do I know what?" Maya asked back.
"The purpose of my dad's assignment. Do you know what it is?"
Maya nodded.
"Smackle told us," she said.
"Is it a good one?"
Fortunately for Riley, Maya nodded again. It was like a hundred weights had been lifted from Riley's poor little shoulders.
"Yeah, Riles," she said. "I think you and Farkle are both gonna really like it."
But then, there they were, sitting on the loveseat at Topanga's, barely talking. It made Riley's skin crawl. It almost reminded her of her first date with Lucas back at the beginning of the eighth grade. They just sat there with nothing to say. But she and Farkle had never been like that – not before they'd become a couple and certainly not after. In their most private bay window talks, Maya liked to joke that Riley and Farkle's ascension to couple status was barely an ascension at all. They'd always been intimate like that – always shared important talks, always told each other "I love you" with incredible earnestness and ease, and always knew how the other was feeling like the back of their own hand. This wasn't like her first date with Lucas. This was something else. This was, somehow, both better and worse.
"Farkle, can we at least talk about what we're going to dress up as for this dance?" Riley asked.
"Yeah," Farkle said. "So, my question is, do you think you'll look OK in a red wig? Or will we just have to give you a badge that says 'Agent Scully?'"
"Farkle! I never agreed to that. As a matter of fact, I disagreed to it."
"Rejected it."
"What's the difference?"
"One is a thing that people actually say."
Riley frowned, and Farkle sighed.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean it like that. I've just got a lot on my mind. Picking our costumes for this dance is one of them, though the intellectual part of my brain really wishes it wasn't."
"But why would you just assume we were going as Scully and Mulder after I vetoed it?" Riley asked. "We have to come to an agreement about things like this. How are we ever supposed to agree and compromise on bigger things if we can't agree or compromise on what we want to be for this dance?"
"Why would you just assume we were going as Marianne and Brandon after I vetoed it?" Farkle asked.
"You never vetoed it. I mentioned why it was important to me, and you told me you believed me, which I thought was weird. Then you got all 'Donnie Barnes' about it, and I still don't know why because you still won't tell me."
Farkle was quiet for a moment. He didn't quite know what to say. He thought about asking Riley if they wanted to forgo the dance entirely – just hang out beneath his planetarium and try to burn through the original Star Wars trilogy in one night. But he knew that would never fly. Riley loved school dances. She loved dancing in the gym, she loved the cheap punch, and she loved seeing everyone all dressed up and united, even if it was only for three or four hours. And he loved that about her. He wished he could get out of his head – tell her what was going on and stop being so silly. He knew that was what it was. Silly. But their early teens had been nothing short of a romantic nightmare. His eye still twitched in AP Psychology every time the teacher brought up Maslow's hierarchy of needs. After all, it was shaped like a triangle.
It wasn't like he thought the triangle would resurge or anything. He knew it wouldn't. Lucas and Maya had been steadily together for more than a year, and he and Riley … well, they'd always been he and Riley. When he and Lucas were together without the girls, Lucas often mentioned how surprised he was that it took Farkle four and a half years to really have his moment. He'd never admit it in front of Maya or anything (because Maya would have laughed so hard she would have maybe died), but there was a part of him that felt a little threatened by Farkle during their freshman year. He couldn't explain it until well after Riley and Lucas's breakup, but once he could, it was clear. Farkle agreed, even. So, why did this seem impossible? Why couldn't he let Riley have her way?
"Maybe we should come up with a compromise," Farkle said. "Something other than the two things we already suggested."
"I know what a compromise is, Farkle," Riley said.
"Right. Sorry. I … what about Mal and Inara? Serenity was a theatrically released film, ya know."
"I don't know why you'd suggest Mal and Inara when Kaylee and Simon are right there," Riley said.
"Do you want to be Kaylee and Simon, Riley?"
"No! I want to be Marianne and Brandon."
Farkle tried to hold onto his patience, but he'd never been particularly good at that. He remembered losing his patience with Riley on New Year's Eve when they were in the eighth grade … and he was right back to where he started. Afraid. Silly.
"What would we even wear?" he asked.
"What?"
"If we went as this couple from Sense and Sensibility. What would we even wear?"
"Well, you're a genius. I'm sure you're familiar with early nineteenth-century British garb."
"But where would we find it?"
"Demolition would surprise you."
"Riley …"
"What? Farkle, if you don't want to be Marianne and Brandon, I'll drop the idea."
"But you haven't yet. So your offer is null and void."
"I'm not going to drop it until you tell me what's so bad about it."
And that was when Farkle, though he regretted it before he even said anything, couldn't hold his patience any longer.
"See, this is the kind of thing that always gets us into trouble," he said, standing up and moving toward the door.
Riley's face fell. She got up from the loveseat, too, and though she inched toward Farkle, he continued to back away from her.
"I don't understand," she said. "What kind of thing?"
"When you meddle. You can't fix everything, and you can't always fix me."
"But …"
"But I know, Riley. I know you want to. I know I'd like you to. It's just that sometimes, a guy has to be on his own. I hope you can understand that."
But Riley didn't know what else to say. Farkle was just too good at delivering those gut punches at the door of her mother's bakery. She looked at him right in the eye, feeling the tears begin to sting her eyes again. Boy, did she ever hate that feeling.
"OK," she said. "We'll talk later?"
Farkle nodded, and so did Riley. She closed her eyes for a second to compose herself and not drop a tear in front of him, but when she opened her eyes again, Farkle was gone.
And for as sad as Riley was that she and Farkle were fighting without a clear reason why, she was surprised by the strange feeling she had in her gut. This wasn't like when Lucas found her at Mount Sun Ski Lodge, having talked to Evan all night. This was different. For as upset as Farkle seemed (was), Riley didn't feel dread.
They'd talk later. They always did.
Later that night, Riley sat at her computer, trying to think of a historical event from 1980 that she could bring to her father's class the following day. She'd read through a few things, but nothing really caught her eye. Nothing really seemed to say, "Look at me, Riley! I'm the solution to all your Farkle problems!" She was discouraged. It was ten o'clock at night, and she was running on empty. Normally, she would have figured it out by now. But maybe that was the curse of growing older. Things really didn't get any easier.
After going through a few articles, she turned to a playlist of popular songs from 1980. For as much as she liked to sing Olivia Newton-John's "Magic" into her hair brush, and for as much as she loved Queen's "Crazy Little Thing Called Love," they offered her no solace and no answers. She read up on Freddie Mercury and found him beautiful and interesting, but the only things he and Farkle seemed to have in common were their initials. Frustrated, she turned to the folder on her computer that was just pictures of her and Farkle. They'd taken a few good ones in recent months. Riley especially loved the one where Farkle was showing off his "IT'S A TRAP!" shirt that Riley had bought him for no reason other than just plain loving him. She was in the midst of Bette Midler's "The Rose" and a picture of Farkle staring down an unusually large slice of cheese pizza when she thought she might cry … and then someone came through the bay window. She didn't look up.
"Don't make fun of me, Peaches," she said. "I'm going through it."
"It's not Peaches."
Riley's eyebrows went up. She slammed her laptop shut and whirled around to see Lucas sitting in the bay window.
"Lucas?" she asked. "What are you doing here? You know my father doesn't like you in my room."
"Relax, Riley," he said. "I think your father stopped worrying about me in this room a long time ago."
Riley smiled and moved to the bay window to sit next to Lucas. She had to admit, it was nice now. She'd always liked talking to Lucas, but it wasn't until they broke up on the steps leading down to Topanga's that she'd really been able to figure it out. Since then, they'd struck up a real friendship. Auggie might have been Riley's only brother, but Lucas was her only cowboy friend. She got it now.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Maya sent me," Lucas said. "She thought about coming, too, but she and I both decided that I was really the only one who could get you to see what's going on."
"Why?"
"I don't know for sure. Maya says it might have something more to do with me than any of us realizes."
Riley paused for a moment. Farkle could never. It had been too long. The two of them were too solid. They'd been solid even in the midst of … no. There was no way.
"Huh," was about all she could manage to say.
"Can I ask you something?"
"You just did, Lucas."
"Right. Something else."
"Of course."
"What, exactly, were you and Farkle arguing about in history class today?"
Riley exhaled. It wasn't until she was forced to retell the story that she realized how silly and strange it was.
"Farkle and I didn't agree on who we wanted to dress up as for the dance," Riley said.
"Oh, that's a shame," Lucas said. "Maya and I knew right away. We're gonna be Danny Zuko and Dirty Sandy from the end of Grease. It's gonna be great."
Riley narrowed her eyes at him, and Lucas raised his hands, surrendering.
"Hey, hey, I'm sorry," he said. "Not the right time. Not the right place."
"Farkle wants to be Scully and Mulder from The X-Files …" Riley said.
"Isn't that a TV show?" Lucas asked.
"There are movies. But I wanted to be Marianne and Colonel Brandon from Sense and Sensibility."
Lucas flinched, which took Riley aback.
"You're flinching," Riley said. "Why are you flinching? Do boys hate Jane Austen so much that they flinch when they hear the title of one of her books?"
"It's not that," Lucas said. "It's Sense and Sensibility in particular. Riley, don't you remember when we read that book?"
"Of course I do," Riley said. "How could I forget?"
"And you can't think of anything from that time Farkle might not want to be reminded of?"
"Well, it was a hard time for us then. But it was so long ago. Everything's changed since then. You and Maya have been together for over a year. Farkle and I are solid – or at least I thought we were."
"You are. If anyone in this world is solid, it's you and Farkle."
Riley smiled. She liked the sound of that. You and Farkle. She was still pleasantly surprised with how much she liked it. If she'd told her seven-year-old-self that she'd fall in love with the vampire who saved her life while bobbing for apples, she wouldn't have believed it. Farkle didn't look like the hero of Riley's white-horse dreams. But there he was. There he always was.
"So I don't understand," Riley said. "If everything's been OK for such a long time, why can't we just move on?"
Lucas shrugged a bit, though it was clear he knew exactly what he wanted to say.
"It's important for us to move on," he said. "You're right about that. It's why you finally gave me my boot back."
"Are you wearing it now?" Riley asked.
"No. Fortunately, I've grown a lot since seventh grade. And so have you."
"So, why can't Farkle see past…?"
"Riley, if there's anything I've learned from taking your father's class again and again, and having it be about my life again and again, it's that even though it's important for us to move on, it's also important for us not to forget. Sometimes, remembering still hurts."
Riley looked down at her hands. It had been a long time since she'd allowed herself to think about the triangle. It was almost like if she forgot about it, then everyone was OK. If she pretended it never happened, then Maya and Lucas would be solid forever. Then she would be with Farkle forever. But that wasn't how it worked. That wasn't to say she ever saw herself wanting to be with Lucas again – far from it. It wasn't to say she was proud of the way she'd behaved back then. She wasn't. Believing Josh when he said Maya "turned into her" to see if Lucas was good enough … what had she been thinking? But she didn't get to pretend it didn't happen. She didn't get to pretend like it didn't have lasting effects for everyone.
And then it clicked. She'd been so blind. All that time, she and Maya and Lucas had called it a triangle. But it wasn't one. It never had been. All that time, it had been a square. And the memories pulled on Farkle just as much as they pulled on Riley.
"You're right," Riley finally said. "I have to talk to him."
"I think that's the best you can do," Lucas said. "Maybe come up with a backup costume plan. Wanna be the bad girl from Grease and Danny Zuko's best friend?"
Riley smiled.
"I think Maya and I are past the whole 'good girl/bad girl' thing," she said. "But thank you for your offer."
"Eh, it wasn't a real offer, anyway," Lucas said. "You and Farkle are gonna figure out your thing, and when you do, it's gonna be great. Very … Riley and Farkle."
Riley's smile turned into a full-on beam. She looked toward her computer on the bed, suddenly remembering that she only had a few hours to complete her father's latest assignment.
"Hey, Lucas?" she asked.
"Yeah?"
"Have you figured out what you're going to present about 1980 in my father's class tomorrow?"
Lucas nodded.
"Yeah," he said. "Your father's beloved Phillies won the World Series in October 1980. He's gonna love me for it. It's almost gonna make up for me sneaking into his house way past your curfew."
"Only half an hour past!" Riley said. "And you don't even know he knows you're here."
"Oh, I know!" came Cory's voice from elsewhere in the apartment.
Riley and Lucas both gulped, and as Lucas rushed out of the bay window, Riley was quick to ask him again.
"Wait!" she said. "Smackle said she knew where my father was headed with this assignment. You know … so Farkle and I can resolve things."
"Yeah," Lucas said. "She told us all about it after school. It's one of your father's better plans. I won't lie about that."
"But what is it? What am I supposed to find?"
Lucas laughed.
"Isn't that for you to find for yourself?" he asked. "Isn't that kind of the point?"
"Oh, come on!" Riley pleaded. "It's getting late, I'm getting tired, and sometimes, it's OK to take the easy way out, isn't it?"
Lucas laughed again when he saw the guilt in his friend's eyes. She'd changed a lot since they met in seventh grade, too, but there was a part of her that would always be the girl who finished her own homework – and Maya's – during the homework rebellion.
"I know you don't believe that," he said. "But since you're right, and it is getting late, I'll throw you a little hint."
"Oh?" Riley asked.
"Yeah. Any good movies come out in 1980, Riley?"
Riley furrowed her brow and almost answered, but she and Lucas both heard one of her parents – likely her father – get up and make their way toward her room. Lucas ran out the window, both boots on his feet, and Riley slammed the window shut. As soon as Cory barged into the room, Riley sat at the bay window, legs extended, clicking her heels happily as though nothing had happened at all.
Cory narrowed his eyes at Riley, equal parts suspicious and optimistic.
"Not Minkus?" he asked.
"Not Minkus," Riley said.
"Good."
Then, suddenly, Cory's expression shifted from angry that Riley could have had her boyfriend in her room past her curfew to confused.
"We're living in a world where I'm afraid that a Minkus is going to come through your bedroom window," he said. "What kind of world is it?"
He left, still confused as ever. But Riley wasn't confused at all. In fact, she was smiling like she hadn't smiled in a long, long time. The kind of world where a Matthews was worried about a Minkus in his daughter's room? That was exactly the kind of world Riley wanted to live in.
She wondered, then, how a Minkus would react to a Matthews in his son's room. It was only a matter of hours before she found out.
"Farkle, wake up!"
Farkle jolted away, tearing off all his blankets with him. When she saw him like that, Riley had a thought, but then she immediately wiped the thought from her brain. Since when did she have thoughts like that, anyway?
After a moment or two, Farkle composed himself and realized that Riley Matthews really was standing over his bed, fully dressed and ready for the day. He wasn't dreaming. Well, of course he wasn't dreaming. In his dreams, Riley usually wore a dark purple dress like a lounge singer. The jeans and floral top would have to do. They were nice, after all.
"Riley, what's going on?" he asked, still groggy. He looked over at the clock. "Is that really what time it is? Quarter to six?"
Riley nodded enthusiastically.
"Uh-huh," she said with a big wide grin on her face. Farkle would have been charmed by it if he weren't so tired. This was his one day off from zero-hour biology lab, and he'd intended to sleep until at least half past six. It wasn't that he wasn't glad to see Riley in his room (or to see Riley anywhere at all), but couldn't she have let him sleep? Genius didn't just happen. You had to nurture it, after all.
"Why are you here so early?" Farkle asked in the midst of a yawn. "Where do your parents think you are?"
"I left a note saying that I was going to school early to tutor some kids in English," Riley said. "Though I'm sure they'll figure out the truth pretty quickly."
"If I know your mother, she's probably figured it out in her sleep," Farkle said.
Riley laughed.
"Yeah," she said. "I'm a dead woman."
"Why risk dying, dead woman?" Farkle asked. "What did you want to talk to me about?"
Riley's grin turned into a deep sigh. She wanted to get into the bed and sit up beside Farkle, but something told her that was a very bad idea. Instead, she stood firmly above him … until that felt like the wrong position, so she pulled up his desk chair and sat beside him there.
"Tell me the truth," she said. "Do you not want to dress up like Marianne and Brandon from Sense and Sensibility because Sense and Sensibility reminds you of the triangle?"
And though she'd been expecting it since Lucas's late-night visit, Riley was still a little surprised when Farkle nodded his head yes.
"What?" Riley asked.
"It's true," Farkle said. "I don't mind Austen stories. I even think Sense and Sensibility is a wonderful novel. It's just that every time I hear the title, I think about what it was like for all of us to go through that. I think about how much pain you were in when you saw that Maya and Lucas might like each other. I think about how scared I was that it could have been the end of Riley and Maya as we all knew it. But I guess what I think about most is … what I did. On New Year's Eve, just after Harper assigned the book."
Riley nodded solemnly. It wasn't an incredibly solemn situation anymore – not to her, anyway – but she could tell that Farkle still thought about it far more often than she did. When they were in eighth grade, he'd blown his personal horn of Gabriel and told everyone (everyone) that Riley still loved Lucas. It had hurt then. Somewhere inside both of them, it still hurt now. But just because it hurt didn't mean it would happen again. History wasn't always doomed to repeat itself.
Just look at Topanga's daughter in Minkus's room, she thought.
"I just don't like remembering that you were hurt," Farkle said. "I don't like remembering that Lucas was hurting you, and I really don't like remembering that I contributed to that. I didn't know what I was doing. I thought the truth was always the best thing. You taught me that, remember?"
Riley smiled. How far Juliet and the spear-carrier had come.
"I guess, like everything," she said, "it got more complicated as we got older."
"Yeah. Anyway, that's why I'm not into the whole Sense and Sensibility thing. Every time I hear you say it, I just can't stop thinking about the look on your face when I told everyone that you still loved Lucas."
"So, it's not that you're afraid I'll love him again?"
"Are you kidding me? Riley, you and I are like the light bulb."
"I thought the light bulb was about middle-school cheerleading."
Farkle laughed a bit.
"It is," he said. "But it's also about you and me, when you think about it. Took ninety-nine tries to figure it out, but once we did …"
"It was much easier to see," Riley finished for him.
"Yeah. Kinda like that. It's not about me being afraid you'll fall in love with Lucas again someday. I know you won't. I'm not sure of all my feelings, but I'm sure of every feeling I have about you."
Riley beamed again.
"I know," she said.
And it meant so much more than just I know.
And that was when it clicked. Finally!
"Farkle," Riley said. "What are you bringing to my father's class today? About 1980?"
"Um, Voyager 1 confirmed the existence of Saturn's moon Janus," Farkle said. "It's a very Farkle thing to find. How about you? Did you find the answer to our problem?"
"It took me awhile," Riley said. "But I think I've got it pinned down."
"What? Are you going to tell me, or are you going to make me wait?"
"Aww, it's so fun to make you wait."
"You're right. It is."
In what seemed like no time flat, everyone was back in Cory's classroom for history class. Farkle still couldn't stand that Riley wouldn't tell him what she was presenting for the class that day. She just sat there, smiling bewitchingly at him, knowing that what she was about to say would throw everything into perspective.
"You won't even give me a hint?" Farkle asked (but more like badgered).
"You're a genius, Farkle," Riley said. "You should be able to figure it out without one."
"But I can't see through you! You're my greatest weakness! Kryptonite! Am I on the right track?"
"Almost. But not really."
"Ugh!"
The bell rang, and Cory stood in front of the classroom, ready to go. By the look in his eye, Riley knew they were finally on the same page. She loved it when that happened. Her father really was much smarter than she often gave him credit.
"So," Cory said. "1980. Who's got somethin' for me?"
A number of hands went up, including Riley and Maya's. To Riley's surprise, Cory called on Maya first.
"What have you got for us, Maya?" he asked.
But before Maya could speak, Lucas asked, "Did Maya really just volunteer to go first?"
"I did," Maya said. "You got a problem with that, Huckleberry?"
"No, it's just unusual. Why did you volunteer to go first?"
"Because I'm the only one in this story who hasn't spoken about 1980 yet," Maya said. "You had to give me a line somewhere. I'm Maya!"
"Go ahead," Cory said. "We're all listening."
"I found out that the Rubik's Cube debuted in 1980," Maya said. "I've never had one, but I know that Farkle can solve one in …"
Out of nowhere, Farkle slammed a perfectly solved Rubik's Cube onto his desk in victory.
"Done!" he said.
"Well, in however long that was," Maya said.
"Thank you, Maya," Cory said. "The Rubik's Cube has definitely become a staple of popular culture since its debut in 1980. It's a very good find."
"Yeah, but there's one thing I can't figure out," Maya said.
"Is it the Rubik's Cube?" Smackle asked.
"That, and what's the Rubik's Cube got to do with them?" Maya asked, pointing at Riley and Farkle in front of her. "Farkle can solve a Rubik's Cube, but he can't solve what's going on between him and Riley? I don't get it! It's your worst connection yet, Matthews."
"That's because it's not the right one," Cory said.
He turned to his daughter.
"Riley?" he asked. "What do you have for us?"
Suddenly feeling the gravitas of what she was about to say, Riley stood up in front of the classroom. She looked right at Farkle and grinned. This was going to be one that they remembered for a long time. They might even remember it more than New Year's Eve in eighth grade.
"On May 21, 1980, The Empire Strikes Back debuted in theaters," Riley said. "It was the long-anticipated sequel to the extremely successful 1977 film …"
"Star Wars!" Farkle said. He was both excited that they were talking about Star Wars and because he might have finally seen where Riley was headed with this one.
"Exactly," Riley said. "In The Empire Strikes Back, Leia – Princess Leia – finds herself unexpectedly in love with Han Solo. But she's not supposed to love him. She's supposed to love Luke Skywalker."
"Luke S.," Farkle said and turned in his seat to look at Lucas.
"I'm not a part of this," he said. "She came up with it on her own."
"You are a part of it, Lucas," Farkle said. "You'll always be a part of it. And I'm going to be OK with that. In time."
They focused their attention back on Riley, who was still explaining Star Wars to them.
"But it becomes obvious that Han and Leia have a stronger connection," she said. "They go on a long, long adventure together, and Leia realizes something. Han … treats her like a person. Like an equal. He doesn't treat her like a princess. He treats her like the woman she is. There's no white horse moment for the two of them because that's not how real love works between two people. Real love is about looking at a person and seeing them for just that – the fact that they're a person."
"Don't forget my favorite part," Maya said.
"You have a favorite part of Star Wars?" Zay asked. "Boy, this world keeps turnin' upside down."
"She likes this part, Zay," Lucas said. "I promise."
"In the end, or, in the next movie, Princess Leia discovers why she could never bring herself to ever love Luke in the same way she loves Han," Riley said. "Luke is the princess's brother."
Lucas smiled and tipped an invisible cowboy hat at Maya.
"And that means he gets to date any blonde beauty in the galaxy that his heart desires," he said.
"OK, I'm not even into Star Wars, and I know that's wrong," Maya said.
"I was trying to make a thing work!"
"Do yourself a favor. Don't."
Lucas playfully rolled his eyes, and Riley stepped closer to Farkle.
"Farkle," she said. "It's your favorite movie. We've seen it together, like, a million times since we were kids. I don't know how we missed it before."
Farkle nodded.
"You're right," he said. "All this time, I never noticed it. There's a reason The Empire Strikes Back is my favorite movie."
He turned around to look at Lucas again. This time, he grinned.
"I just didn't realize how well we all fit into it," he said.
"Well, wait!" Maya said. "If the three of you are the heroes of the galaxy, what does that make me?"
"It makes you Maya," Riley said.
"Are you good with that, Short Stack?" Lucas asked.
Maya smiled. In the years since eighth grade, she'd become well adjusted – even fond – of the name "Short Stack" as long as it was coming from Huckleberry.
"Yeah," Maya said. "I'm good with that."
Riley took her seat again, quickly squeezing Farkle's shoulders on her way. Cory took his daughter's place in front of the class again.
"So, whadda ya think?" he asked. "Conflict over?"
"I understand why Farkle wouldn't want to lean on Sense and Sensibility," Riley said. "It's not who we are."
"That's right," Farkle said. "We're not England. We're the whole galaxy."
He turned to the side and looked at Riley a little quizzically.
"But I thought you didn't like the idea of having buns on the side of your head," Farkle said. "I thought you were afraid that you wouldn't be able to hear the music the right way. That's what kept us from the Halloween costumes we thought we wanted."
Riley just kept smiling like she knew more than Farkle did. And in this matter, she did. Farkle was glad to give it up to his partner on this one. She had this.
"Oh, we're not going to do that," Riley said. "Not exactly."
Farkle grinned. If he had to guess, he thought he might know where Riley was going with this. He loved it. He loved her.
She knew.
On the night of the dance, Farkle, dressed like Han Solo, waited nervously in the Matthews family apartment. Riley still hadn't emerged from her room.
"You know, they make a store-bought version of this costume," Cory said. "But Riley just wouldn't go for it."
"Why not?" Farkle asked.
"She wanted to give you the best," Cory said. "Are you going to give her the best?"
Farkle went to answer, but he noticed that Cory was glaring at him now. He gulped.
"I really don't know how to answer that question, sir," Farkle said.
"I'll tell ya how," Cory said. "She'll be home by midnight."
"She'll be home by midnight."
"Right answer."
There were footsteps from the other side of the apartment, and Riley finally came out of her room, dressed to the nines. She was dressed just like Princess Leia on the ice planet Hoth – all white space get-up, boots, and her dark hair pulled back into a braid crown. She looked lovely. It had been her idea to dress up like Han and Leia in The Empire Strikes Back instead of their more recognizable looks in A New Hope. In part it was because Riley was afraid she'd miss the music if she wore buns over her ears. But mostly it was because The Empire Strikes Back was the movie where Han and Leia made the right decisions. They moved past expectations and toward what they really wanted. Riley always wanted to remember them that way, and Farkle couldn't have agreed more.
"Whoa," Farkle said. "Check out the princess."
"Check out the scoundrel," Riley said, moving closer to him.
"Do ya like me because I'm a scoundrel? Are there enough scoundrels in your life?"
"Oh, but didn't you know I happen to like nice men?"
"Oh, but didn't you know I'm a nice man?"
Suddenly, they became very aware of Cory in between them. He waved his hands between Riley and Farkle, confused as could be.
"What is this?" he asked. "My daughter and Minkus's son on a Star Wars date? What is this?"
Riley took Farkle's hand and turned them both around to face her father.
"You said it a long time ago, Dad," she said. "We couldn't let our history be one of missed opportunities."
Cory looked at Farkle again.
"Midnight, scoundrel," he said. "No Kessel runs with Chewbacca for you."
"Midnight, sir," Farkle said. "You'll see us then."
"Oh, you're not allowed in this house past midnight. You're barely allowed in this house for another second."
"We're just leaving," Riley said. "He'll have me back before midnight, Dad."
"Oh, he better."
And then, they were off. But before they could leave the building, Riley found herself channeling the spirit of her mother and pushing her boyfriend up against the wall. Farkle's eyes went wide. He wasn't expecting this – just like he wasn't expecting her to drag him all the way up the stairs like she did in eighth grade – but just as he did then, he liked it.
"OK, hotshot," she said and kissed him good. Like Leia kissed Han in the extended kiss scene that she used to make Farkle rewind over and over
"I love it when you quote deleted scenes from Empire at me," Farkle said and kissed her back.
"You have all the breeding of a Bantha," Riley said.
Farkle laughed.
"OK, maybe not every line from every deleted scene," he said. "But this was a great idea. Nothing better than a jacket like this to make a guy like me feel dangerous."
"And it's a wonderful excuse for me to try a braid crown," Riley said. "How do I look?"
"You look beautiful."
They took each other's hands and began to walk out of the building and toward the dance – for real this time. On their way toward the stairs, Riley spoke again.
"I love you," she said.
It wasn't the first time she'd ever told Farkle she loved him. She'd been saying it for years. It was, however, the first time she'd said it since they'd become an item. And despite Sense and Sensibility, despite Scully and Mulder, and despite any and all strain that the memories of the triangle still had on all of them, Riley knew exactly what Farkle would say.
"I know."
And that's that! I think it's safe to say I'll visit Girl Meets World again now that I've written two stories about these adorable little loves. Consider this something of a sequel to "Revisionist History." The continuity is all the same. I just really wanted to write about these two dorks loving Star Wars because we already know Farkle does. And I feel like Riley would, too. After all, she did learn how to conjugate the verb Chewbacca.
Disney owns Girl Meets World and Star Wars. I own this purple sweater that I really, really like – and I think Riley would, too.