The first time they get mistaken for a couple, they can't stop laughing for about five minutes. To be fair to the waitress, it might be considered a logical assumption. By some. Because she and Farkle are holding hands, and they're at a restaurant, and it's only the two of them in the booth. But really, Lucas and Zay had had to stay late at practise, and Maya'd been called to babysit, and Farkle never gave up an opportunity to spend his father's money (he likes to tip extravagantly, and Riley likes to take pictures of the way people's eyes light up when they see he's not some dumb kid who wrote too many zeroes at the end of his tip).
The second time it happens, they snort and move on with their lives. There was no real reason for it- they were just on the subway when some woman told them that they looked like her and her husband when they were young. And friends get mistaken for couples all the time, right?
By the third time it happens, they hardly bother correcting the stranger anymore. Because, really, if he can't tell that they're clearly not a couple, does he even deserve to know? They're not doing anything particularly 'couple-like'- they're walking along the highline, and it's the middle of winter, so Riley (who basically can't thermoregulate) is tucked under Farkle (who is a human space heater)'s arm.
It keeps happening after that, nearly whenever they're alone (Riley just thinks it's weird that all these strangers seem to think that it's their God-given responsibility to comment on their non-existent relationship). It even picks up to happen when they're out with the others- if she and Farkle stand aside for more than a couple of seconds, someone will mention how they look "so much like me when i was young" or "so very in love". They try not to let it affect them, because they're not dating, thank you very much.
The forty-second time it happens (and yes, Riley is counting- at this point, she and Farkle bet on whether a person will assume when they approach them. There's no real winning, except for bragging rights, which is good because Farkle always wins) Riley does it on purpose.
Which she's not proud of. Mostly.
But really, she'd said no. Like four times. And while she had a tight grip on her pepper spray and a pretty good knowledge of how to use it, she didn't really want to use it on one of their classmates.
The six of them were at a house party- she was pretty sure it was Yogi's house, but at that point, who knew- and she'd been fixing drinks for herself and Maya when she'd been approached by a senior (she thought his name was Mario, but honestly couldn't be sure, so she just kept calling him Pacers Hat Guy -though, the Pacers, really?) who'd decided he wasn't taking no for an answer when he'd tried to convince her to make out with him, and instead chose to keep following her around when she left the drinks table to return to Maya.
Of course, when she gets back to where they'd been sitting on the lawn, there's no one there, so Riley has to search for another escape. Which is when she sees Farkle.
He'd briefly split from the rest of them to greet some of his Debate teammates, and then got sucked into a conversation about… well, Riley isn't quite sure. But tensions are rising amongst them.
So she makes a split second decision, and veers slightly off course, walking up to join him instead of just waiting on the lawn like she would've done if not for Pacers Hat Guy.
"Hey, babe," she greeted him, smoothly slotting herself in next to him as his arm came up to rest around her waist (in a platonic way, seriously).
To sell the act, she let herself lean over and press a soft kiss to his lips.
When she pulled back, he was blinking at her, expression entirely deer-in-the-headlights. She barrelled onward, his performance of the Spearkeeper still fresh in her mind, even years later.
"I got us drinks," she informed him, pushing the cup she'd meant for Maya into the hand that wasn't resting on her bare midriff.
"Thanks," he said hoarsely, eyes still locked on her. He cleared his throat for a second, and repeated. "Thanks."
"No problem, babe," she assured him, her focus entirely on Pacers Hat Guy, who'd suddenly gone pretty pale. But who wasn't leaving.
Really, what more could she do?
"-it's about time," one of Farkle's teammates- Alison- remarked.
"Hmm?" Riley mumbled, letting her eyes drift back to the other girl.
"I was asking how long this-" she waved her hand at them in a vague gesture, "has been going on."
"Oh, uh-" She hadn't really thought this bit through, she realised. She'd just wanted to escape Pacers Hat Guy, who was still watching them, for some reason.
"I've been in love with Riley since the first grade," Farkle told her, and it was enough to drag Riley's full attention into the conversation. Not because she hadn't heard it before, of course. But because she hadn't heard it since he'd gotten together with Smackle (hadn't even heard it after the two of them had broken up).
His eyes were piercing, and his skin all but glowed in the low light streaming from the house.
"Farkle's my best friend," Riley responded, and although she was answering the other girl's question, she was only talking to Farkle. Without thinking about it, she leaned over and kissed him again- just a quick peck, almost instinctual.
She pulled back, cheeks bright red (because they're not actually dating, this was just to get some weirdo to go away, what is she even doing). For a half-second that felt like forever, Farkle stared at her with those eagle eyes. And then he swooped in and kissed her, the hand that wasn't resting on her ribcage, brushing the bottom of her bralette coming up to the back of her head, weaving its way through her hair.
And she kissed back.
By that point, everything was way out of their control, so she said 'fuck it' and gave it her all, dropping her cup somewhere behind her to lock her hands together behind his neck, her body curving to match his.
When they broke apart, they were both slightly short of breath, and Pacers Hat Guy was nowhere to be seen. Riley let a small, smug smile curl at the corners of her mouth (the mouth that Farkle had just kissed, holy fucking shit).
"Well, I win, pay up," Alison said to the rest of the group, as Riley and Farkle stared at each other in a mixture of surprise and elation. There was some grumbling, but most of them forked over a couple of dollars.
"You were betting on this?" Farkle asked incredulously.
"Half the school is betting on this," another kid responded. "You guys literally live out of each other's back pockets. My money was on when Riley and Lucas broke up- no offence-" he told Riley, shooting her a quickly apologetic look. She waved it away, struck dumb at this new piece of information- "but obviously y'all weren't gonna be that self aware, so that was on me. But seriously, congrats, bro."
The idea of anyone calling Farkle 'bro' was crazy enough that it managed to shock Riley back into reality. The reality where their schoolmates were apparently betting on whether she and Farkle were together. She giggled softly, the vodka and the high of kissing Farkle in her bloodstream.
Farkle laughed as well, his voice warm and familiar and home.