A/N: Okay, so, full blown story time? Also, new Tumblr account specifically for stories and just shipping things in general. My account is called takeadvantageofanopportunity and I made a story devoted second blog called a-isforalison, bitches (thestoriestshit dot tumblr dot com) too.

The air is cold as you two walk back from the doughnut shop. She gleefully laughs that beautiful laugh and something new comes over you.

You don't want to walk home, you don't want to go home. You've never been excited about returning home and you wouldn't ever say you look forward to it, but not trying to be that way wanting to at all is new.

Her fingers delicately intertwine with yours as entangled branches on a tree. Your hands, you know, are colder than your heart but hers radiate heat and she grips tightly, to cling to you.

The wildest part of you, untrimmed and unphased by the fear and doubt that coils around the rest of you, wants to hold onto her forever, and just run. Run away, run anywhere, as long as you're with her.

She's set a fire in your soul with just her laughter.

You wish you could stamp it out.

She asks you if you want to go to a high school party Lucas invited her to. You almost break your pen. Why is she asking you this during history? Why did Lucas invite her? Something must be up. That cowboy must be up to something.

"Only if there's beer," you joke.

"Lucas said there would be," Riley thinks you're serious. You freeze inside, that can't be good. Lucas would only mention beer and want to bring Riley, your innocent Riley, to a party with one if he was going to try something.

"Riles, we aren't going to that party," you tell her.

"What? Why not?" The brunette asks, confusion clear in those stunning eyes.

"It's not a good idea, okay?" You know you can't explain why not to her. She'll want to go even more then.

"Maya, just because you don't wanna go doesn't mean—"

"I'm serious, Riley. It just isn't a good idea," you cut her short, "we're not going."

"You mean you aren't going. This is my world and if I want to go to a party with a cute boy, I will," she says. Mr. Matthews re-enters the room before you can protest.

You have no choice, you have to go with her. To protect your girl.

You tell her you'll go and she wraps her arms around you from her desk. She kills you sometimes.

The party is in full blast when you two get there. The music is deafening and everyone wreaks of sex, sweat, and beer.

It makes you just a little sick to see Riley mixed up in this. It's even worse when she nervously uses her adult voice. Your insides twist and boil, your girl shouldn't be here. The two of you should be having some lame exersion into the world while she rambles about Ranger Rick.

Speaking of Ranger Rick, he breaks free of some drunken, slutty high school girl draped around him and makes his way over to you.

"Hey, Riley, I'm glad you could make it," he says, flashing that charming smile.

"Hey, Lucas," Riley giggles, nervously twirling her hair.

"And I'm here too," you assert, wrapping a protective arm around the doe eyed girl.

"Maya," he nods.

"Sundance," you nod back. You pray to God he understands that he is not to try anything on your best friend. Instead of reassuring you that he won't touch her (you know she'd let him, she fucking loves him as she tells you all the time), he cracks a grin with a pleasant chuckle.

What the fuck does that mean? Is he laughing at how protective of her you are? Does he not realize that she needs ypu to protect her? She's so fragile and naive, just handing out love to everyone. Even someone like you.

You don't get to ask him though, he's taking Riley's hand (no, no, fuck no, this isn't happening) and inviting her to dance before you can do anything.

Your heart shatters in your chest as she giggles and smiles at you. You force a smile and give her a thumbs up.

"I can't be here," you mutter. It hurts too much to be here, watching them dance so fucking perfectly. The guilt of being in love with her is tearing up your insides, you let that cashier think you two were a couple, you hold her close, you pretend you don't love her. It's fucking killing you to be this selfish.

They look so perfect, so happy. Riley's got that beautiful, beautiful smile lit up on her face and he has this soft, charming smile. They go together so perfectly. You fucking hate it.

You can't stand it, you need to hold your girl close, become wrapped up in those hypnotic eyes and play footsie with her, your fingers intertwined. She's yours, not that hillbilly's. Damn it, you want her even though you know it's not right.

"Babe, chillax and have a drink," some stranger smirks, handing you a red cup. You know what's in it but you drain it anyways. It burns your throat going down, like acid. You fucking love the feeling. "So, your hot friend is dancing with Lucas, huh? Don't be jealous, gorgeous, I know he's pretty good lookin' but he's just a kid, woman like you needs a man."

You give him a look over, he's definitely a player.

"Aw, come on, gorgeous, don't be so cold. You can't have that much of a thing for the cowboy," he says, running a hand through his blonde hair.

"It's not Ranger Rick I care about," you scoff.

"Ohoh, so blondie's got a thing for the girl?" You want to rip his stupid, cocky face off, you want to grab Riley's hand and run the fuck away, you want out and away from this sleaze. How dare he say that! You don't need some fucking creep outing you at a shitty party after giving you beer.

"I don't have a thing for her, creep. She's my best friend and if he has the balls to try anything, I'm going to rip his balls off," you snarl.

"Damn, you're feisty. How 'bout another drink, honey?" He smirks, grabbing another cup.

"Fine," you mutter, snatching it from his hands. Just to distract you from Mr. Perfect seducing your girl.

"So, what's your name anyways?" He asks, "or do you just wanna hook up in the closet with no strings attached?"

"I'm not a skank and I'm not telling you my name," you hiss at him, narrowing your eyes and draining the cup. Is it just you or is the world spinning a bit?

He raises his eyebrows and slinks off to find a new target. Good, the prick is leaving you be. You focus your eyes on Riley again—fuck, she's beautiful. She looks content with Lucas and his hands haven't sunk too low—yet.

Something stirs in the pit of your stomach, you don't want to be here anymore. They look too happy and she's laughing again—oh, God, why is she so beautiful? The fire is ignited again, blazing and twisting, its flames licking at your insides. It burns and hurts like a bitch but you can feel the alcohol numbing you a bit, this is a high like no other.

You want to run away with her. You wish you could propose the idea to her—Riles, let's run away and be free—but you're supposed to be straight so you force your pretty little mouth shut.

Lips sealed, fingers crossed.

Your hands are ice cold again, but your heart is electric. She laughs again and pushes past drunken fools to you, sending a smile back at Ranger Rick. She reaches you, giddy and beautiful, with that perfect smile etched across her lips.

"Maya," she singsongs, "that was so much fun!"

"Looked like it," you smirk at her. She erupts in a fit of giggles, wrapping her arms around you. The world spins again and you trip backwards a bit. Is she drunk? Are you drunk? Fuck. When did she even have anything to drink?

But you already know the answer: while you weren't paying attention.

"Let's, let's get out of here," you tell her, grabbing her hand.

"Okay," she smiles, following after you.

You need to get away. You need to pretend everything is okay and that these feelings are normal. You need to run the fuck away for just a night.

The wind slaps into your face, adrenaline rushing throughout your veins. The night is alive with your giddy laughter and her drunken giggles. Your fingers are wrapped around each other, your hands locked together.

This is perfection, running around like crazy kids together, running away to God knows where, your hands intertwined. Never have you felt so wonderfully alive, so electrically foudroyant. You don't have to whelve your feelings for her right now and nothing could make you happier. She laughs, her eyes lighting up, as rain begins to pour down on you. She is beauty, she is perfection, she is Riley Matthews.

And you're so fucking in love with her.

reviews are love. give maya some.