You aren't stupid. You know Riley isn't perfect, you know that this moment isn't anywhere nearly as infinite as it feels and that this feeling will feel like it never existed by the time your head hits your pillow. But your fingers are laced with hers and the rain pours down and your head is spinning from the liquor you downed and fucking God do you love this moment.

It's imperfect and you know it's finite but the helpless moping in your eyes that screams "save me" is gone because she's doing exactly that.

"I'm so drunk right now," you giggle, spinning around like it's ballet.

"Bad Maya," Riley doubles over, her hand on her stomach. Something inside you shivers at the mental images of her saying that, hovering over you, hair in her face, pinning you to a bed.

"Only for you," you joke, your words slurring.

She giggles and drunkenly hugs you, stooping down and stumbling. Her hair drapes over you and your heart skips about fifteen consecutive beats. You wrap your arms around her and whisper into her hair, "babe, you're choking me." You feel her smile into your shoulder and she pulls back a bit.

The alcohol is clear in her eyes as she giggles again and says, "I like it when you call me babe."

You smirk and say it again. Her eyes melt and she rests her head on your shoulder. The rain is soaking you both and your hair is sticking to your flesh but so is she. Something about it is magical, like it's just the two of you even though people march on by with spared looks of disgust, confusion, and amusement. She looks so beautiful that all you care to see is her though. "I love you, babe," you murmur.

"I wuv you too, Maya papaya," she slurs, pulling away and nuzzling her nose against yours. Heat spreads to your face, shivers rushing through your chest and stomach. Her lips look so fucking perfect and her face is glowing, you want to just kiss her then and there. You're both so drunk, maybe she'd pass it off as nothing . . .

Someone bumps into you. It's the perfect excuse and then your lips are against hers.

"Whoa," a familiar voice says.

You pull away from her, "I know."

"Farkle?" Riley blinks, not giving you a second look. Farkle! Your brain goes on fucking red alert, Farkle just saw you kiss your best friend. Farkle isn't drunk. Farkle fucking knows now.

"Ladies," he says, the usual flirty tone only subtly there with the shock and something that sounds suspiciously like joy.

"Go the fuck away, Farkle," you hiss, turning to glare at him.

"Whoa, you're feisty tonight, Maya," he grins enthusiastically.

"I'm not kidding," you growl, "leave."

"Heh, want me to leave you to make out with Riley?" He jokes, nodding at her.

"Wha?" Riley asks, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Is she drunk?" He asks, concern in his eyes.

"Just go away, Farkle," you groan, "I'm walking her home."

"How did she get drunk, Maya? Are you drunk too?" He isn't going away. You feel your insides sickening and sloshing but he's still fucking here.

"Minkus, I'm handling it!" You exclaim.

"Okay, okay, just make sure she's safe, okay?" There's a determination in his eyes that makes you want to punch him. Of course you'll make sure she's fine, she's your girl. No one is going to touch her, no one is going to hurt her. Not on your watch.

You take her to your house and call Cory and Topanga, tell them Riles wanted to have a sleepover. They say okay and you get her a glass of ice cold water and sit her down on your bed. She giggles yet again and sips the water without question.

"So, how was dancing with Ranger Rick?" You ask her, sitting next to her with your own glass of water.

"Fun," she chirps, "but not as fun as running around with you." Your heart speeds up, you know she doesn't mean to do this to you.

"Good," you tell her, smiling.

"That was our first party," she giggles, resting her head on your shoulder.

"I know, Smiley," you respond.

"It was soo much fun," she laughs, "I'm glad you went with me."

"Of course, I'm your best friend," you note, laughing at your blurred vision. You're not nearly as drunk as her, thankfully. She's so wasted. You can't believe Lucas had the balls to let her drink, he better have been wasted or you'll kill him on Monday. That's a total lie though, you'll kill him no matter what for touching your girl.

"I know," she sighs, nuzzling her head into your shoulder. Blushing a little (and you can't tell if it's the booze or her), you put your head on hers.

"Love ya, kiddo," you tell her.

"I love you too," she giggles, "I love you soooooo much."

"How much?" You tease, not remembering she doesn't mean it like you want her to.

"This much!" She exclaims, throwing her arms out. She hits you in the boobs but you just laugh it off because she's so fucking drunk.

"Only that much?" You ask, disappointed but hiding it in the joke.

"No," she whines, pouting, "I just can't reach my arms out enough."

"Really?" You ask. Your heart is hurting a little as it floats with all that false hope. She nods, or tries to. "Whoa." She giggles and you swear your heart is about to explode, this moment is so perfect and you love her so damn much. How could you ever express it to her? By not taking advantage of her again and kissing her. But that was an accident. Farkle bumped into you. You didn't mean to.

But you did.

You should've known that joy was finite.

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