"There is something in the New York air that makes sleep useless."-Simone de Beauvoir
"Away," is the only coherent thought in her mind and it propels her every action; the need to put distance between herself and everything that's behind her. She can't breathe, she can't move, she can't process; all she can do is run.
The outlines of things fly passed her, but it's too dark to make out what they are. She knows that everything is moving too fast. She needs to slow down and think; she needs to make sense of what is happening, but she knows that time is running out and she's afraid that the loss of motion will lead to something truly catastrophic happening.
Though, she can't escape the feeling that something bad will happen, regardless of what her next choice is.
Then, suddenly, her entire body is being forced forward and violently back. She hits her head against something hard in front of her and the pain is sudden and sharp.
The blackness surrounds her like tar; too thick and sticky to slip out of and the stench of it is overwhelming. Her head is pounding and something wet is making its way down her arm, but she can't see and she can't escape the sound of her heart beating desperately in her chest.
"I've got a pulse," someone shouts and she feels something cold pressing against her neck.
"We're going to want to get a backboard, one wrong move and we could leave her entirely paralyzed," a new voice suggests.
Riley's eyes snapped open and she turned onto her back, her eyes quickly running over the room around her. It was dark and she could just make out the glow of the alarm clock on the bedside table that was telling her that it was 3:13 A.M.
It's not the first time she's awakened from this particular nightmare, but it had been long enough that she'd thought she'd left it behind, somewhere. She was supposed to be making all kinds of fresh starts and moving on with her life, but waking up in this room is like waking up in the past.
She could hear the even breathing of Savannah coming from beside her and she could almost pretend that it was Maya. Maybe, they were back in her childhood bedroom and she would discover that this reality was really the dream.
She brushed the hair out of her face, as she sat up, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark room. The curtains were pulled and the only light came from the alarm clock and a hallway light that cast a sliver of yellow across the white-carpeted floor.
Savannah hadn't wanted to sleep alone and it had made sense for the two of them to share Maya's bedroom, while Farkle took the double bed in Savannah's room.
She'd been relieved to discover that while it had the lingering smell of the perfume that Maya had come out with the year before, the 800 thread-count sheets were recently changed and the decorations consisted of European cityscapes and Venetian Chandeliers. Unlike Maya's Hamptons home, a maid had taken care of any clothes that Maya might have left on the floor and it felt more like being in a hotel, then being in the private sanctuary of the recently deceased.
She slid out of the bed, the silk of her nightgown brushing against her legs, as it settled with her movements, and crossed the room. She flicked on the light in Maya's bathroom and gently closing the door behind her, careful to ensure that the sound wouldn't wake the sleeping teenager.
If she'd had any beliefs that she was tucked away in her childhood bed, they left, as she took in the sunken tub that could easily fit three people and the walk-in closet that held more designer labels than Bergdorf's carried.
But, they'd left Kansas behind a long time ago and the secret to going back required a lot more than the right pair of shoes.
Riley surveyed her reflection in the mirror, taking note of the bloodshot eyes and the dark rings that were forming around them. She'd lost quite a bit of weight recently and it was reflected in the sharp angles of her face and the bones that jutted out at her wrists.
She looked like a zombie; still living, if only in a loose and debatable definition.
She turned on the faucet and cupped her hands under the stream of water, splashing her face and effectively splattering the front of her nightgown in droplets of fluid.
She reached for a drawer, hoping to find a hand towel, and instead finding it filled to the brim with Maya's makeup. She tried another, which yielded a collection of medications. Riley picked them up, one at a time; finding sleeping pills, a bottle of caffeine capsules, a collection of vitamins, four different kinds of anti-aging creams, and a half-full bottle of anti-depressants, before she returned each of them to the drawer.
The next drawer, held a brightly colored array of washcloths and Riley grabbed one, pausing as something fell from within the folded cloth to the ground. She set the washcloth on the counter, before bending down and coming face-to-face with a pregnancy test.
"There's another one," Maya informed Riley, holding up the postcard, from the pile of mail that she had been sorting through.
Riley was sprawled out on the couch, one hand picking at the hole in upholstery and the other flipping the pages of the textbook that she had settled against her knees. She could just make out the gold of Maya's hair, from over the kitchen countertop that faced towards the living room, in the corner of her eye, as she glanced up from the book.
"Where has Farkle gone, now?" Riley questioned, setting the book aside, in favor of approaching the counter and taking it from Maya's extended hand.
They had a bulletin board hung up in the corner of the room, where they'd been tacking up the postcards that Farkle sent them and Riley slowly made her way over, as she took in the picture on the front.
"Taipei," Maya replied, unnecessarily, returning to sorting the bills and advertisements into piles.
"He's studying meditation," Riley added, as she scanned over the short message on the back, before she tacked it up.
"Do you think that means he's achieved inner peace, yet?" Maya asked, as Riley returned to the counter top and started flicking through the bills they'd received for the month.
"I'll ask the next time he emails me," Riley suggested.
"Hey, you have that thing, tonight, don't you?" Maya changed the subject.
"If by, 'thing,' you mean Mayor Nolan's reelection campaign, then, yes, I'm supposed to be making calls to remind people to vote," Riley replied.
Her National Politics teacher had pulled several strings to get her into the summer internship and she was balancing it between several summer classes and her once-a-week shift at Topanga's. To anyone else it would have been an enormous load, but Riley was passionate about the things that she was doing and with a lot of organization was making it work.
"I've barely seen you since I got back from Rome," Maya complained, referencing where she'd spent the first half of her summer on a school-sponsored trip. It had been a late high school graduation present from Shawn and Katy and the longest amount of time the two girls had spent apart to date.
"I'm hoping that things will slow down a little in the fall," Riley offered, adding a letter to the pile that was designated for Maya, when she realized that it had been placed in the wrong pile.
"No, you're not. Admit it, you love being busy. You love the politics and the classes and the being an adult," Maya argued, raising an eyebrow, as she waited for Riley's response.
"What I don't love is the bills," Riley replied, "And, the limited amount of time I have to spend with Lucas. Speaking of which, I'm supposed to meet him for an early dinner before I go to campaign headquarters."
"Do you think you could pick something up for me on your way back?" Maya questioned, keeping her voice deliberately nonchalant, as she moved over to the fridge and opened the door.
"What do you need?" Riley asked, setting the mail aside and following the blonde across the kitchen.
"A pregnancy test," Maya replied, off-handedly, slamming the fridge door and immediately making her way from the kitchen, through the living room and in the direction of her bedroom.
"Maya Penelope Hart?" Riley called, as she chased after her.
"It's not a big deal," Maya spun around to face her, her eyes pleading with Riley to go along with it.
"It's a pregnancy test," Riley pointed out, "And we're about to start our second year of college, Maya. A baby would be a very big deal."
"It's probably nothing," Maya insisted, "I've just missed a couple of periods and I might have thrown up every day this week."
"You haven't been seeing anyone," Riley offered, trying to remember the last date that Maya had been on and failing. She hadn't been seeing anyone since she'd gotten back from her trip and all of the pictures Maya had shown Riley showed her hanging out with two of the girls Maya had met in one of her art classes.
"I know," Maya admitted, "And I need you to not ask about this. Can you just pick up the test for me and make sure that I actually take it?"
She's not sure how long she sits there staring at the test; water damage making, whatever the results had been, unreadable.
If Maya were pregnant, she would have called her. No amount of time or distance had ever been enough to keep them from sharing every important event and milestone in each other's lives. This test had to have been negative.
But, if it was, why would Maya have held onto it?
Riley slid the test back under the towels in the drawer and closed it.
Her feet pounded a staccato rhythm against the treadmill, each step reminding her of how long she'd felt like she was running without ever going anywhere.
The city was stretched out in front of her through the window that occupied an entire wall of the workout room. When she was younger, she'd been able to trace the entire New York skyline and pick out the buildings, as though it were the face of an old friend. But, now, the city, itself, is a stranger and everything about it leaves her feeling restless.
Her hair hit her back in a pace all its own and she could feel droplets of sweat running from her neck, down her back and getting absorbed in the fabric of her shirt.
"Couldn't sleep, either?" Farkle questioned and Riley hit the button to slow down.
"Maybe it's the time zones," Riley replied, settling into a walk and struggling to catch her breath.
"Maybe," Farkle returned, looking at her with uncertainty in his eyes.
She'd left a note taped to the fridge, so that Farkle and Savannah would know where she went. And she'd sent a text message to Tessa, to inform her that she would let the bodyguard know when Riley decided to leave Maya's building.
"You told me that the investigation into what happened to Maya lasted twenty-four hours?" Riley questioned, hitting the stop button and letting her entire body slide off the treadmill, before she caught her balance on the padded flooring.
"They got the results on Maya's blood test at the hospital and it clearly showed an elevated blood-alcohol level, which combined with her anti-depressants to cause a fatal stroke. No one could have known how much alcohol it would take to do that," Farkle informed her, "Believe me, I've tried to think of every scenario around this, but Maya went against her doctor's orders and it had consequences."
"It doesn't make any sense," Riley's gaze drifted back to the skyline.
"It never does," Farkle offered, his eyes taking on a faraway haze that suggested he was fighting his own demons.
"Who was in charge of the investigation?" Riley wiped the sweat from her forehead.
"Riles," he cautioned, "Even if you do find whatever it is you're looking for, it won't change, anything."
"I need some answers," Riley replied, "Who was it?"
"A familiar face," Farkle gave in, reaching into the pocket of his day-old jeans and holding a business card out to her.
If she were being honest with herself, she'd imagined this situation before. She might have even had an entire speech memorized for what to do if it happened in high school, but they're both adults, now. She's not sure that the speech applies.
She sits biting her thumbnail and watching the clock on her phone, as Maya paces, restlessly, across the length of the bathroom.
The test looks completely innocent from where it's been set on the counter; like it might not be the bearer of life-altering news.
"How much longer?" Maya questioned, her eyes looking everywhere other than the direction of the little, plastic stick.
"Thirty seconds," Riley replied, pulling her knees up to her chest and leaning back, further against the back of the closed toilet.
"Distract me," Maya requested, sinking into a heap on the floor, as exhaustion finally caught up with her.
"I'm changing my major," Riley offered, her heart not really in the conversation.
"Again?"
"I just feel like, I might be going into teaching more to please my father, than out of any real love for it," Riley replied.
"You know he doesn't care what you go into, as long as you're happy," Maya reminded her, leaning her head back against the wall.
The timer went off and they both looked at the phone that was in Riley's hand.
"Moment of truth," Riley offered, turning off the alarm and sliding the phone back into her pocket.
"It's going to be negative," Maya closed her eyes, not making any move to get up from the floor.
"Maya," Riley sighed, her eyes having already looked at the results.
Maya's eyes slowly opened and she pulled herself up from the floor, crossing the distance to the counter and picking up the test.
"What do I do?" Maya whispered, her hands shaking, as she stared at the results.
"I don't know," Riley admitted, letting her feet drop to the floor.
She traced the jagged scar on the inside of her wrist with her thumb, as she listened to the second hand of the clock that hung above the door. She's pretty sure that this room is used for meetings because it lacks the two-way glass that she would expect of an interrogation room, though she can't shake the feeling that she's being watched, regardless.
There had been eyes on her from the moment she had entered the precinct, leaving Tessa at the front desk, as she was escorted into this room. Heads had turned as she'd passed through the maze of desks and she couldn't help wondering what they were really seeing, who they were seeing.
She self-consciously tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and straightened her posture, folding her hands on her desk.
She hadn't seen Charlie Gardner, since they'd graduated from high school. She hadn't even known that he'd become a police officer. She's not sure what she expects after sixteen years, but he still wears the same haircut and his eyes are the same penetrating brown. She used to look into them and think that he was seeing through her, in a way that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, which probably helped in his line of work.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," he entered the room, carrying two cups in his hands and setting one down in front of her, "It's not every day, we entertain a princess."
"I'm not a princess," Riley automatically corrected him, folding her hands on the table.
"I don't think the rest of the world has caught on to that distinction," he informed her, setting a manila envelope on the table between them.
Her eyes immediately dropped down to the ring that was settled on her left hand and she placed her right hand over it, feeling the diamond and setting dig into her skin, until it hurt.
"I'm sorry about Maya, I know how close the two of you were," Charlie offered, sincerely.
"Are," Riley corrected him, "I don't think our relationship is the kind of thing that ends with death."
"Right, I'm sorry," he paused, looking uncomfortable for the first time, since this conversation had started, "You know, when I found out it was her, I asked to be assigned to this? It just didn't seem real. One minute we're all kids and the next Maya's on the cover of half the magazines I see and you're on the others."
"I guess you never know where you're going to end up," Riley sighed, closing her eyes, as she struggled to keep the memories at bay.
She's waiting for him to push; to ask about her divorce, or whether she was pregnant, or whether her decision to marry James was really a political statement against her ex-husband. However, he surprises her.
"On the phone, you said you had some questions," he reminded her and she forced her attention back onto the purpose of this hastily arranged visit.
"While you were investigating, did you find any reason to believe that Maya could have been pregnant?" Riley questioned, unable to meet his eyes, as she asked.
"The short answer, is that we didn't. The long answer is that our budget was cut after this last election cycle. We have to be able to justify every test we run, every second of time an ME spends on a body, every second of our own time. Not to mention, the significant amount of pressure there was to eliminate the possibility of foul-play before Maya's organs were no longer viable. We conducted all of the interviews the day she was admitted and with the hospitals insistence that it was accidental, there wasn't anything we could do at that point. After her body was released to us, we ran the tests to confirm the hospital's diagnosis, the ME went in and confirmed that Maya Hart died of a stroke, and we ruled it an accidental overdose. We weren't looking for anything, else."
"Did you search her home?" Riley questioned, knowing that there hadn't been anything in Maya's apartment that looked out of place.
"We went to make sure that there wasn't forced entry and to talk to her neighbors, but she'd just gotten in from a flight that morning and had been gone for a week. Any evidence would have been on her," he explained, leaning back in his seat.
"Where was she flying in from?" Riley questioned, latching on to the new information.
"Nevada," he opened the file, sliding out a credit card transaction sheet and sliding it over to her, "She had a driver waiting for her when she landed and had them drop her off at her publicist's office. After that, she checked into The Four Seasons, with her credit card, and was found unresponsive, the next morning."
He pulled a picture of the hotel room and Riley noted the Lois Vuitton carry-on, which was set at the head of the bed. The covers were wrinkled, but didn't look slept in and a half-empty, clear bottle, of what looked like vodka was set on the bedside table.
"Doesn't exactly look like enough to kill someone, does it?" Riley questioned, noting that the scene she was seeing looked a lot different than the one that had been painted in the press. How was anyone supposed to know what was real and what wasn't, when the story changed with every person that she talked to?
"It wasn't just the alcohol that killed her," he reminded her, tucking the picture back into his file.
"Why would she check into a hotel and not just go home?" Riley pointed out, trying to make the puzzle pieces connect in her head.
"She had just found out that she was being dropped by Milo Cavanaugh from fashion week because he was going in a different direction with his models," he revealed.
"So, you think she was depressed and decided to kill herself?" Riley offered, bluntly, deliberately looking away from him.
"No, the problem with this situation are that there are a million motives for murder or for suicide, but none of them add up. She knew that drinking alcohol with her antidepressants was dangerous, but she couldn't have known how much alcohol to drink to cause a stroke. She was surrounded by intrigue, but her death is pretty straightforward. We ruled it accidental."
"It just doesn't make any sense," Riley repeated her earlier sentiment.
"Did she tell you that she was pregnant?" Charlie pressed, the interest in his eyes evident.
"No, I found a pregnancy test in her bathroom early this morning," Riley explained, looking away, as she shifted through everything that she'd been told, everything she'd known, trying to make it all fit together in her mind.
"That doesn't mean it was hers or that it was even positive. She has a daughter, doesn't she?" Charlie pointed out and Riley bristled under the patronizing tone in his voice.
"Savannah, is fourteen years old."
"If I remember, correctly, you and Lucas were pretty serious when you were fourteen," he reminded her and she winced at the mention of Lucas's name. Her nerves were already tightly wound and this wasn't helping.
"Not that serious," Riley stood up from the table, pulling her jacket more tightly around her, as she prepared to leave.
"Riley?" he stopped her and she slowly turned around, "The one thing we can't explain is the 911 call. Officially, we said it was a maid that found her, but the call was placed from her own cell phone and we can't find the phone. All we know, is that the call came from a man."
"You think she was meeting someone," the pieces finally solidified, becoming a hazy picture.
"I think it was an accidental overdose," he repeated, "But we keep all collected samples for ten years after a case is closed, just in case someone decides to reevaluate it. If you want me to have them check to see if she was pregnant, I'll do it, for old times' sake."
"I would appreciate that," Riley brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
"If you're really going to look into this; you should prepare yourself to find something that you might not like," Charlie warned her, "People are never exactly who we want them to be."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"You have a number that I can call?" he questioned.
"I'll be with Farkle, he said he gave you his," Riley replied, turning back to the door and heading out through the rows of desks.
Tessa was waiting just outside the doors for her and easily fell into step beside her.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Tessa questioned, as she led Riley to the town car that was waiting for her at the curb.
"Not yet," Riley replied, slipping into the car and smoothing her skirt across her lap, "But I'm going to."
She awakens to the sound of Maya throwing up in the bathroom across the hall from her room and she quickly, peels the covers back on her bed and crosses over to where Maya is hunched over the toilet.
Riley's hands reached out to pull Maya's hair back and she tried not to look to closely at the contents that were vacating Maya's stomach. As close as they were, there were some experiences that she really didn't feel the need to share in.
Finally, Maya fell back onto her heels, wiping her mouth with a piece of toilet paper and flushing the toilet.
"How do you feel?" Riley took inventory of the blonde, noting her pale complexion and the way she gasped to get air back into her lungs.
"Pregnant," Maya dead-panned, pushing herself back until she hit the wall and was able to stretch her feet out in front of her.
Riley rotated her own body around, settling against the wall and letting Maya lean against her shoulder.
She hadn't been able to get Maya's news off of her mind for the last few days, though she wasn't any closer to knowing what Maya should do. Katy had been letting them stay in the apartment for a portion of the rental price, since she'd moved upstate with Shawn, but that didn't mean that their expenses weren't piling up and a baby would drastically add to those.
"If this was you, what would you do?" Maya asked, looking at Riley with vulnerability in her eyes.
"You know I'd keep it," Riley replied, not having to think through her answer, "But, I, also, know that Lucas would be there, every step of the way."
"And me," Maya reminded her.
"And you," Riley agreed, her hand stroking Maya's shoulder.
"You want to know something crazy?" Maya questioned, biting her lip.
"Yeah," Riley replied, feeling drowsiness starting to set in.
"This last year, I've felt really lost. Art has always been my outlet, but the more classes that I take, the more I wonder whether I wanted to be an artist because it was the first thing that I found that I really felt good at, or if it was because I loved art enough to make a career out of it. There are so many paths that I feel like I could take, but I'm not sure which one is the right path for me. Does that make any sense?" Maya paused to gauge Riley's reaction.
"It makes a lot of sense," Riley replied, knowing that Maya had watched Riley's own struggle with figuring out what she wants.
"This baby isn't a path that I would have chosen for myself, it's not a direction that I even considered going in, but the more I think about it, the more it feels like a sign. I've had no idea where to go with my life, but this unplanned pregnancy feels right, like it was supposed to happen. And, that's crazy, right?"
"That sounds like something that I would say," Riley smiled, watching as Maya's free hand moved to settle across Maya's lower abdomen.
"You taught me to trust in the universe," Maya reminded her, "And, I have no idea how this is going to work or if I'm going to raise the baby myself or give it up for adoption, but I think this is the journey that I'm taking for the next nine months."
"That we're taking," Riley corrected her.
"I was hoping that you would say that," Maya admitted.
"Ring power?" Riley held up her hand and Maya instantly raised her own and threaded her fingers with Riley's.
"Ring power."
She'd never given much thought to what would happen to her when she died. She'd given plenty of thought to death and dying; whether she'd go of liver failure, or kidney failure, or a fatal car accident. Maybe, she'd drop out of the sky like Farkle's parents.
She liked to believe that whatever death they had, had been instant and painless, that they hadn't realized what was happening, until they were gone. Although, it was far more likely that they'd had a long way to fall from those great heights and they'd died watching the plane lose altitude and knowing that there was nothing that they could do about it.
Was that how Maya felt? Surrounded by pressures and expectations, watching her career slip away from her.
The idea was too painful to allow herself to dwell on.
If…when she married James, there would be a state funeral and she would be buried in the family cemetery, but she's not sure that she wants her final resting place in a foreign country.
Maybe it wouldn't feel so foreign by then.
"Riley?" Farkle reached out to grab her hand and she blinked to find herself back in the office of Maya's publicist, Noelle.
"Sorry, I was thinking," Riley admitted, tucking her hair behind her ears, as she focused back in on the conversation taking place around her.
"Maya didn't leave behind any funeral plans," Ava explained, patiently, from where she was sitting in a chair that had been dragged in from outside of the private office in an effort to accommodate everyone in the room.
It was a nice office, as far as offices went. Several landscape paintings hung on the wall and a large, mahogany desk sat in the center, that Noelle was seated behind. Farkle was seated next to Riley on a couch that made an, "L," with the desk and gave a good three feet of walking space between the two halves of the room. Katy and Shawn sat in two chairs that lined the wall by the door. Ava had squeezed a chair in front of the desk, and while they couldn't fit many more people, they all had their own space.
"We've arranged to have her service held in the Frank E. Campbell chapel, before her body will be taken to the Shaarey Pardes Accabonac Grove Cemetery for a graveside of close friends and family, and her burial," Noelle explained, reading off of a notepad that she had open on her desk, "We believe that it would be most appropriate, to have Maya's parents speak at the funeral, and a eulogy read by her daughter."
"No," Riley offered, crossing her legs, as everyone turned to look at her.
"What part of that do you oppose?" Noelle asked, looking uncomfortable.
"Maya didn't want her mother to have custody of her daughter, I highly doubt that she would want Katy to speak. And you're not assigning anything to Savannah, until we've talked to her," Riley announced, her foot bouncing in agitation.
"Riley," Shawn rebuffed her, his hand reaching out to grab Katy's, as Katy's eyes filled with tears.
"This isn't about us," Riley snapped, "This isn't going to be another grand production, where we all pretend to like each other and tell pretty lies about Maya's life. Do you, honestly, think that you could say anything about the person that Maya was when she died?"
"She was my little girl," Katy reminded her, not bothering to wipe at the tears that were running down her face.
"There was a reason she didn't talk to you and we're not going to forget that, just because she's gone."
"Riley," Farkle stopped her, with a hand on her arm.
"She deserves one day that isn't filled with lies, we deserve one day to grieve without pretending," tears ran down Riley's own cheeks and she reached up to brush them away.
"Excuse us for a minute," Farkle led Riley from the room, taking her down the hallway and pausing when they were out of the vicinity of where anyone could hear them.
"You know that I'm right," Riley insisted, when they had come to a stop.
"I know that Maya still talked to Shawn and that she took Savannah to see Katy every Christmas. I know, I wasn't there for what happened, but, I think, that Maya was trying to let it go, Riles. What's the point of continuing to punish Katy? It won't bring Maya back," Farkle offered, gently, as Riley struggled to compose herself.
"I know that nothing is going to bring her back," Riley snapped, her grief giving way to anger, "But, if we do this the way that Maya's publicist wants to do this, Maya's funeral won't be about Maya. It will become distorted and twisted and there will be no peace."
"When people look back at my parents, they see the love story. I remember the yelling, the punched walls, and the times my mother stormed out threatening to never come back. I could go out and shout that from the rooftops, but what would that accomplish? People will see what they want to see and that's very rarely the truth," Farkle's voice trailed off at the end, as he turned away from her to face the wall.
"So, the truth doesn't matter, then?
"You will never get people to see Maya the way that you want her to be seen and trying will not bring you peace; this funeral isn't going to bring you peace. Your problem, Maya's problem, is that you've always been looking for it in all the wrong places," Farkle offered, the muscles in his back, tensed against the fabric of his t-shirt.
"I didn't ask for the life that I have," Riley reminded him, feeling like she was seeing herself through his eyes, for the first time. She'd believed that she could bridge the distance between the two of them, but it's in this moment that she realizes that there are more miles then she'd initially thought and it was entirely uphill.
"You may not have asked for it, but you chose it," his words sounded incredibly loud in her ears, though she knew that he hadn't raised his voice, and she found herself feeling small, as she realized that whatever comradery they'd had the last few days was an illusion devised by her nostalgic mind.
Riley paced the hallway, making a loop from the kitchen, passed the couch, down to Maya's room and back, before beginning the cycle all over again. She'd been able to distract herself with school, all day, but she knew that Maya would be getting back any minute from her trip to see her mother and she had this nagging feeling in her gut that things weren't going to go well.
She jumped at the sound of a door slamming as Maya let herself in.
"Well?" Riley questioned, wrapping her arms around herself, as she tried to gauge where the blonde's head was at.
"She accused me of throwing my life away," Maya admitted, biting her lip as she spoke, "She said that she didn't spend her life working double shifts at the diner, holding down multiple jobs, so that I could end up in the same situation that she was in."
"I'm sorry, Maya," Riley sighed.
"I knew she wasn't going to be happy," Maya offered, crossing the room and sinking down on the edge of the couch.
"Maybe, she just needs some time to get used to the idea," Riley suggested, taking the seat next to her.
"Maybe," Maya agreed, a distant looking in her eyes suggesting that she wasn't convinced.
The Bay Window has been gone for a while, now, but that doesn't stop her from walking by her childhood home. She swears that she can see the silhouettes of two little girls sitting in the window above the fire escape and she wonders if she's getting a glimpse into a frozen moment of time.
She'd walked out of the building, directly after her conversation with Farkle and been too out of it to go looking for Tessa. She'd started wandering and, somehow, found herself here.
She pretends that she's climbing up and letting herself in through the window, which is acting as a portal back to the past. She's not sure what she'd warn her past self about, but maybe she'd find some way to stop all of this.
"I thought I would find you here," a familiar voice greeted her and she spun around, nearly losing her balance.
"Uncle Josh," she greeted him, taking in the stubble that he hadn't bothered to shave and the grief, which reflected from his eyes.
"How's Savvy?" he asked, wrapping an arm around Riley's back and guiding her away from the window and up the street.
"She's holding it together. I get the feeling that it hasn't entirely sunk in, yet," Riley replied, staring at the cement.
"I thought about dropping by, I just," Josh paused and Riley watched as he struggled to control the emotions he was feeling, "I went back to my apartment…after…..and I sat down and all of a sudden I'd lost several days."
"It's okay," she wished that she believed the words.
Topanga's was the same as it had always been, although it had gone through a change of ownership. Topanga and Cory had moved home to Philadelphia to take care of Amy after Allen's death and hadn't come back, even after Amy had joined her husband. They were currently living in her grandparent's house and Cory was teaching at his old high school.
Josh let them both through the front door, ignoring the sign that insisted the bakery was closed.
"Hey," Auggie moved around the corner, pulling the both of them into a hug.
"Auggie-Doggie," Josh ruffled his nephew's hair, when Auggie pulled back and released them.
"You know my wife is the only one allowed to call me that," Auggie reminded him, leading them to the bar, where he'd already set out three slices of cheesecake.
"Auggie's legally married, I'm divorced, Josh had a picture on the cover of Time's magazine. When did we all get so old?" Riley asked, slipping into one of the chairs and claiming a fork from Auggie, who had resumed his station behind the counter.
"The last time we blinked," Josh offered, playing with the food on his plate.
"We should stop doing that," Riley suggested, setting down her fork, as she lost her appetite.
They sat in silence for a moment and Riley ran her hands over the countertop, remembering how much time she'd spent sitting there in her youth.
Josh was right, they years had run away from them, until even the memories had become fuzzy. It was like trying to look through the old glass that she sometimes saw at historical sites; it was filled with waves and bubbles that made it impossible to get a clear view of the world outside.
"Are we going to talk about Maya?" Auggie asked, bluntly, breaking the silence.
"She's dead," Riley offered, wondering why the words made the fact seem less real, somehow.
"Yeah," Auggie looked away, and they fell back into the silence, unable to think of anything else to say.
"How are you and Ava?" Riley changed the subject, when the silence got too loud.
"You want a pretty lie or the truth?" Auggie replied, leaning his forearms against the counter and placing his head in his hands.
"The truth," Josh suggested, still fixated on the food that he wasn't eating.
"I want children and she doesn't. It's all I think about and it's all she refuses to talk about," Auggie sighed.
Their fingers hadn't really fit together when they'd started dating. Hers had been too small and his too big, they'd become sticky with sweat whenever they tried to lace them and the action had caused anxiety to settle into her chest, until she couldn't think straight.
But, now, they twine together in a way that comes from doing the action so many times, over so many years, that they had simply grown together.
"You want to talk about it?" Lucas questioned, glancing over at her, as they continued at a casual stroll down the street.
"I'm happy for Maya, you know I am," Riley replied, swinging their clasped hands between them.
"I don't doubt that you are, you just haven't said a word since dinner, when she announced to all of us that she was pregnant," Lucas pointed out.
"It's petty," she warned him, glancing up to catch his gaze. There's always a moment when their eyes meet, where her breath is stolen from her at the affection that reflects back at her in his eyes. They've said, "I love you," plenty of times, but the words don't seem to convey the depths of his feelings when he's truly looking at her.
"I don't care," he promised.
"I guess, I just thought that it would be us," Riley admitted, biting her lip in embarrassment, as she waited for his response.
"To get pregnant in our second year of college?" he clarified.
"No, maybe, I don't know. I just thought that out of our group, we would be the first ones to have a baby," Riley explained.
"Do you want to have a baby?" he came to an abrupt stop, turning to face her.
"Lucas," Riley looked around them, not wanting to have this conversation in the middle of the street and, not sure that she wanted to have this conversation at all.
"Riley," he echoed her name, reaching up with his free hand to cup her face and gently hold her head, so that she couldn't turn away.
"I want you," Riley's squeezed their joined hands between them.
"That doesn't answer my question," Lucas refused to back down, his eyes looking like jade in their intensity.
"If I tell you, right now, that, yes, I want a baby, what are you going to do? I'm at Columbia and you're at Princeton and we barely see each other," Riley reminded him, "We don't have the time or the money to take care of a child."
"I didn't say that we did, I just don't want this to be another thing that comes between us," Lucas's thumb brushed her cheek, before he let his hand fall back to his side.
He'd been more than understanding, when they hadn't gotten to spend as much time together over the summer as what they had planned. But, she's always been able to see his feelings written across his face. It's fear disguised as frustration, that she was choosing to put other things before them.
"It's not that I want to have a child," Riley admitted, turning to continue pulling him forward again.
"Then what is it?"
"I would never want to take anything away from Maya, but, sometimes, it feels like we're in a competition. She was the first one to stop sleeping with a nightlight, she got her ears pierced first, she brought home the first, "A," in high school and I brought home a, "D." She, even, got to spend the summer in Europe, while the farthest I've traveled is Texas. The one thing that I've had going for me, is how well I've been able to do in college and with helping in the community. I, finally, started feeling like an adult, and now she's having a baby, which is one of the most adult things you can do, and I feel like I'm falling behind again. She's going to have this tiny person that calls her Mommy and I'll still be trying to decide on a major."
"You know that Maya didn't get pregnant just to have something to hold over you, right?" Lucas checked and she shot him a glare.
"I told you that it was petty," Riley reminded him, dropping his hand.
"Riley," Lucas grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face him again, "It might feel like a competition, but it isn't. Yes, Maya's having a baby before you, but she has no idea what she's doing and the only way she's going to be able to pull this off is with your help."
"I have no idea what I'm doing, either," Riley pointed out, "I don't know how to help Maya, I'm just making it up as I go along."
"Well, it's working," he smiled and she rolled her eyes, "And it's good practice."
"Practice for what?" Riley led them the last few yards to the entrance of her building.
"For when it's our turn," he replied, nonchalantly, and she felt her heart lurch forward in her chest.
"You sound pretty confidant, Friar," Riley teased, letting them in the entrance and starting up the stairs.
Lucas waited, until she'd unlocked the front door and let both of them, inside, before he answered her, "Having kids was never something that I really thought about, until I met you. But, I've seen how you are with them and, now, I can't imagine a world in which you aren't the mother of my children. You'll be a mother, someday, Riley, but it's going to be like everything else in our relationship and happen in its own time, the right time."
"Your moment, will be your moment," Riley supplied, kicking off her shoes by the door and hanging her purse on a hook.
"I think in this case, it would be more ours, than mine," Lucas corrected her, following her to the couch, where she curled up into his side and he wrapped his arm around her, "But I'll let you in on a secret."
"I'm not very good with those, I tend to blurt them out," Riley pointed out, craning her neck, so that she could look up at him.
"You're welcome to blurt this one out to whoever you want to," he assured her.
"Alright," she agreed, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
"I intend to ask you to marry me the moment you have your diploma in your hand," he stated, confidently.
"Really?" she breathed, wondering why, after all this time, she still found herself taken off guard, every time he let her know that she was it for him.
"I mean, I want you to be ready and to be sure, but you've always been all I see when I look at the future."
"I love you," she informed him, the words feeling insufficient for the feeling in her chest.
"I love you, too. Always have, always will," he promised.
Riley blinked and she was back at the bar, sitting next to Josh and watching Auggie shift uncomfortably in the silence.
"Riley, are you okay?" Auggie questioned, looking at her in concern, "You look kind of pale."
"It's just been a long couple of days," Riley offered, forcing herself to take even breaths, as her hands gripped the countertop in an effort to keep herself steady.
"I think we'd better get you home," Josh suggested, reaching out a hand to help Riley up.
"I'll see you at the funeral?" Riley turned her attention back to Auggie.
"If not sooner, Ava still has to talk to you about what Maya left you," Auggie pointed out, rounding the counter to give her a hug goodbye.
"Okay," Riley agreed, too tired to try and dig any information out of her younger brother.
"Hey, Riles?" Auggie called, as Josh led her out the door. Riley turned back to look at him, taken by the image of him all grown up and standing in the business that he'd taken over from their mother and made his own, "I love you."
"I love you, too," she smiled, tears burning in the corners of her eyes.
Josh led her out into the street and they fell into step together, her shoes clicking against the concrete. Her phone had been buzzing every few minutes, since she'd left the meeting and she knew that she could probably expect a reprimand from her security for running off without them, though she had sent a text to Tessa that she was with her family, as soon as she'd made it into the bakery.
She sent off another one, telling Tessa where to pick her up from, before shoving her phone back into her pocket.
"You don't think Maya really did this, do you?" Josh broke the silence.
"I don't know," Riley admitted, hesitating on how much she should tell him.
"I keep running through the last time that I saw her in my head," Josh admitted, "We were talking about trying a relationship, planning the future. She, even, told me that she wanted another child."
"When was that?" Riley asked, thinking about the trip to Nevada and Charlie's implication that she was meeting someone at the hotel.
"Last week," Josh supplied, "The last time I talked to her, we got into an argument. I wanted her to come with me to California, but she insisted that there was something else that she had to do. And, I thought that she was falling back into the same patterns as before; pull me in close, just to push me away the minute things seem real."
"I'm sorry," Riley sighed, as a black SUV pulled up the curb and Tessa opened the door to the backseat.
"You have more resources then I do, when it comes to looking into something like this," Josh pointed out, as she hesitated at the curb.
"What if I don't like what I find?"
"Her ex-husband hit her," Josh informed her, "I had the pictures of Maya's bruising on a flash drive that went missing last week, right after Maya and I parted ways."
"You think that she took it?" Riley suggested, wondering why the puzzle pieces kept multiplying faster than she could put them together.
"I think that there was more going on with her, then either of us knew," Josh admitted, "And I need to know what was truth and what was just a pretty illusion."
"Get in the car," Riley sighed.
"Do you have to go back, tonight?" Riley questioned, wanting to stay tucked under Lucas's arm until they both became parts of the couch that was slowly falling apart, but too much a part of the apartment to ever think about replacing.
"I have some time," Lucas assured her, his hand playing with the edges of her hair, "Do you want to watch something?"
"Maya borrowed my laptop, earlier, but I can go get it," Riley suggested, sitting up and stretching. Maya had packed her own laptop in her checked luggage and it had, somehow, gotten broken along the way.
She wandered down the hallway and turned the doorknob to Maya's room, flicking on the light. It hadn't changed much since their teenage years. The walls were still covered in Maya's sketches and the bedspread was the same faded one that Maya had always had. Her clothes were sprawled out all over the floor and her suitcase sat in the middle of the room, only half-unpacked, although she'd been home for almost three months, now.
Riley's laptop was sitting on Maya's bedside table and she picked her way across the room to snag it. She picked it up and was surprised to see a postcard sitting on Maya's desk, with a picture of the Trevi Fountain on the front.
She, almost, unconsciously found herself picking it up and flipping it over. It was addressed to her and the message read, "Guess who I ran into in Rome? Miss You, Farkle."
If you're waiting for a new chapter of LOT, it's mostly written and I'm in the polishing stages. There are a couple of scenes that I might rewrite and I'm a little concerned about the flow, so I have no idea when it will be up, but probably soon. I have some serious writers block when it comes to Heat Stroke and every time I sit down to write a chapter, I either end up writing for another story or hating everything that I've written. At this point, I'm concerned I'm going to finish LOT before I finish Heat Stroke, so I really have no idea what I'm doing for that.
In other news, I wasn't able to get into all of the classes that I needed for summer semester, so I'm probably going to be able to get back onto a normal updating schedule for the summer and hopefully get some of these stories done. I'm, also, taking a fiction writing class, so, maybe, I'll have some original pieces to publish, as well.
I would really love it if you would leave me a review and let me know what you think! Reviews really are a huge motivation to keep writing and I would really love to know what thoughts were running through your head for this chapter. Thanks for reading!