So, I'm debating… This story is currently rated T in most posted locations but in working on my plan for the story, I realized that I wanted to bring more adult subject matter, like sex, drinking, partying into it. So my question is, keep the story T and warn about the more M chapter (it'll still never be graphic or like smut cuz I can't) or bump the rating up to M?


She liked him.

Riley wasn't too such of too many things in that moment, frozen in time with Farkle on the steps leading to Topanga's.

But she was sure of one and that was that she really liked him. Like, the couldn't-think-straight, couldn't-talk-right, couldn't-look-away-from-him kind of liked him. It was a flame in her chest, flickering in time to the beat of her heart. A burning desire, as Robert Frost had said, to feel more, touch more.

When the hell had that even happened?

She hadn't a clue but it was as undeniable to her now as the sky being blue or grass being green.

Riley Matthews liked Farkle Minkus and as much, much more than a potential friend, or a real friend, or even a possible best friend. Not as any kind of just-friend.

Laying in bed that night, she stared up at the ceiling and let her mind wonder as far as the stars outside of her bay window. It was completely ridiculous, totally unfounded, and one-hundred percent useless to think about, but she couldn't help but imagine a world where maybe Farkle didn't despise her.

A world where they were maybe real friends. He could listen to her without feeling the need to make some dumb quip and she could finally relax around him. They wouldn't always seem to be walking on eggshells, dancing around something that was probably really nothing.

But that was the question that really kept Riley awake.

If there was nothing, if all the attraction and tension was in her head, then why on Earth had Farkle Minkus come to her in a moment of need? And why had he looked at her standing over him like she was some saving grace?

Riley didn't fall asleep until the sun had already started to come up.


The next day, Riley stepped into Abigail Adams High School filled to the brim with nervous, giddy energy. Her cheeks felt rosy and warm as she trailed alongside Maya, a smile in her brown eyes but a little reluctance in her pace.

The pair made their way across the hall to their neighboring lockers.

"Maya?"

"Yeah, Riles?"

Riley glanced down at the books in her arms and then back up at her blonde friend who was still shifting through her messier locker. "Have you ever liked someone when you know you shouldn't?"

Maya smirked and slammed her locker closed, winking at the brunette, "Uncle Boing, remember? God, sometimes it's like you don't know me at all!"

"Well, if you know you shouldn't like him than why do you keep chasing him?"

"I am not chasing him!"

"Maya! Just answer me!"

"Why?"

"Because-" Riley faltered, sputtering, "Because I'm, um, just curious."

Maya narrowed her eyes on her friend before something seemed to catch her eye from over the girl's shoulder. She did a double take, making Riley snap around in curiosity.

Farkle Minkus was making his way down the hall, hands in his pockets, and talking to Lucas Friar. He didn't seem to notice the girls watching him, not even glancing their way as he continued his joking and found his own locker.

That was the time when Riley would usually grumble some complaint but she didn't. Instead, she found herself frozen to the ground beneath her feet, the school hallway fading to a grayscale against the contrast of electric blue eyes and warm, pale skin.

A corner of Riley's lips upturned as she observed Farkle break into that oh-so-rare grin that actually illuminated the room whenever he broke it out. In her chest, that burning fire seemed to flare to life once again. The fire that only Farkle could spark, boiling her blood and smoking out her coherent thoughts.

Lucas slapped his friend on the back before both turned in sync to an approaching Zay Babineaux.

A smack to her own shoulder made Riley jump as she whirled back around to a gaping Maya, "What?!"

Maya covered her mouth, a laugh still escaping from her fingers, "Farkle?"

Riley's eyes widened and she coughed, hammering on her own chest, "I, I have no idea what you're talking about, Peaches! Honestly-"

"Thunder." The blonde exclaimed, holding out her ringed finger with a pointed look.

The brunette groaned, running her hand down her face before dropping to link her finger with Maya's. "Lightening,"

The two girls' gazes met and Riley swallowed, glancing over her shoulder where Farkle was still joking with his friends. Turning back to Maya, she pleadingly hissed, "You can't tell anyone!"

"Like I ever would? Seriously, Honey," Maya rolled her eyes before a crease formed in her forehead, "Wait, he's why you asked about liking someone you know you shouldn't?" When Riley didn't answer and instead started off towards homeroom, Maya simply kept going, "Why shouldn't you like him? He's smart, tall, some would say 'cute'…"

The blonde trailed off, noticing her friend's forlorn expression, "Okay, what am I missing? Why do you look like someone just kicked your puppy?"

"Who would ever do should a thing!?"

"Riley."

The brunette sighed, finding her usual seat in their shared homeroom before turning to Maya beside her. She glanced around like she was discussing a covert operation and not just some guy before speaking. Her voice held something powerful, emotional, that Maya hadn't been prepared for.

"I shouldn't like him because he's never going to see me that way." Riley shrugged, looking down at her shaky hands, "He hates me and even if he didn't, what would be the point in starting anything? He's going to Princeton next year and I have Columbia so…"

Maya broke in, "So, you're not even going to try?"

Riley gave her a look from the corner of her eye, "He hates me, Maya."

The blonde rolled her eyes as the teacher came in. The bell rang but she still leaned over to Riley to whisper, "Trust me, I really don't think he does."


Yeah, well, Maya had no fucking clue what she was talking about. Riley thought darkly about halfway through Chemistry. By that time she was just watching the hands on the clock crawl closer and closer to the bell.

Whatever moment Farkle and she had had was most definitely over.

He'd made that incredibly clear the second he'd arrived, completely ignoring her meek 'hello' along with the rest of her existence. Since then, the class had crawled by as Riley tried to keep herself from doing something stupid, like screaming at the boy or crying in frustration.

Or snap over something that normally didn't bother her.

But the nonstop tapping of Farkle's pencil against his notebook was grinding on her very last nerve. It was all she could hear, making it impossible to focus on the lecture Mr. Hudson was attempting to give.

Groaning in frustration, Riley reached over and placed her hand over Farkle's. She closed her eyes and sighed in the relief of silence before turning her head to face the inevitable music.

Farkle was glaring at her, glancing between her profile and their linked hands. At least he had finally acknowledged her?

The girl flushed, feeling electricity surge up her arm from the cells in contact with the ill-tempered genius, and tried to remain steady as she hissed, "What is your problem?"

"Currently," Farkle started, narrowing his eyes, "You are."

Riley stared at him, offended and dumbfounded for a moment before she also glared, "Too damn bad, partner."

The boy scoffed and jerked his hand back in a completely unnecessary display of dramatics. Riley was just thinking about how shocking it was that Mr. Hudson hadn't noticed their quarrel yet when something thin and bright red caught her eye.

It was a letter, written on a paper under Farkle's notebook, previously tucked carefully out of sight and brought to light when he'd gone full diva.

It was a D.

Riley's eyebrows furrowed and she looked back up at Farkle, who hadn't yet noticed the paper was visible. How on Earth had Farkle fucking Minkus gotten anything but an A+ on an assignment? He was impeccable, exceptional, Princeton-bound, and everyone knew it.

Well, no wonder he's throwing a bitch fit. A small voice reasoned in Riley's head as she tried to appear casual, nibbling with her own pen. Weighing her options, she figured she didn't have much to lose and spoke up.

"Final drafts are due tomorrow, right?"

Farkle stiffened beside her and she watched as his eyes darted to the paper on the desktop, face instantly draining of color. His knuckles turned white around his pencil but he remained silent.

Riley, true to her altruistic spirit, tried again, "Maybe I could take a look? You know, I took W131 last year and I am Ms. Pace's student aid."

Silence.

"You can still fix the grade, Farkle," Slowly, hesitantly, Riley reached back out and brought her hand back over Farkle's, gentle and loose this time, giving him all the power to pull away. He didn't though, just eyed her polished fingertips with an unreadable expression.

"I don't want your help." Riley heard his words but also the lack of bite behind them. She knew him well enough at this point to know he was just being prideful.

Rolling her eyes, she took her hand back and picked up the paper between them. She began scanning and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "Stop being an ass for once and just let me read the damn paper. Topanga's at-"

"-5. Fine, have it your way, Matthews."

Riley could swear that she heard the smallest hint of relief in Farkle's voice before the bell rang overhead.


"So?"

"Would you give a minute?"

"It's a two-page paper, Matthews. Not A Brief History of Time."

"Do you want me to tell you how to fix it or not?"

"I want to fix it, but goddamn, you are a slow reader."

"Farkle?"

"What?"

"Shut up."

The boy dropped his head into his hands, groaning in frustration. Across the table, Riley had pinned her hair up in a messy bun with curls cascading down haphazardly here and there, a pen popping out of her mouth and a highlighter in hand.

She really took the whole 'peer editing' thing to a new level. Then again, Farkle knew he should probably be thankful; he might be the scientific genius of Abigail Adams but everyone knew Riley Matthews was going to make Bestseller's lists one day if she wasn't too busy getting a Pulitzer. Writing was one thing that Farkle would fully admit Riley bested him in; so as annoying as they were, he tried not to question her methods.

Finally, Riley capped the highlighter and set down the pen, keeping her eyes on his now fully annotated, D-quality paper. He waited but the brunette stayed quiet.

"Matthews!"

An amused smile flickered over Riley's features, as if she was completely aware of how insane she was driving him, and she looked up with an arched brow, "Hmm?"

"You know 'hmm'." He scoffed, sitting up to cross his arms over his chest.

Riley bit her lip to keep back another smile before shrugging, "It's an accurate paper, basically textbook perfect. You varied sentence structure, used vivid diction, answered the prompt. It's just…"

Farkle sat up straighter as she trailed off, "Just what?"

She sighed and rested her chin on the palm of her hand and looking up at him with those melting, chocolate eyes. "You're not gonna like it."

"Matthews," He pressed, giving her exasperated look.

"Okay," She raised her hands in surrender before leaning back in her booth, keeping their eyes level. "When I read your paper, I see what you're trying to describe but I don't feel it. I'm not connected; it doesn't draw me in."

"Feel it? What the hell does that even mean?" Farkle snapped, his defenses coming up.

For fuck's sake, the boy was going to give her whiplash! Maybe she didn't actually like him, maybe it was a temporary episode of insanity? Riley wondered, rolling her eyes before trying to explain, "It's a descriptive narrative, Farkle."

"And I described."

"Your desk?" Riley asked, a tiny giggle of endearment bubbling up from her lips, "No one is going to connect to measuring the exact dimensions of your laptop."

"It's an empirical observation!" The genius countered, looking confused himself.

Riley gave him the look of exasperation this time, rubbing at her forehead, "Yeah, well, people don't connect to an empirical observation."

The boy looked more confused than ever, sliding the paper back across the table. He looked over Riley's notes, painstakingly taken in every section and crammed into the margins. She'd even used words like 'please' and had added little praises throughout just to soften the blow. How Riley Matthews of her…

"So, what do I do? I have to turn in something actually worth a decent grade by tomorrow."

Farkle watched as Riley shifted in her seat, looking down into her lap, "Emotion can be pretty compelling," She reached up and began doodling on the table top, "Write with emotion, Farkle."

Write with emotion?

Farkle didn't know how to do that.

He spent most of his time trying to not pay attention to his emotions. As a scientist, he had to think clinically and analytically. Pathos, feelings, and bleeding hearts; they didn't have a place in a laboratory. Facts and figures didn't lie, like his mother's words, or change, like his father's promises. It was why he'd always loved science; he'd realized pretty young that the whole 'love' and 'passion' thing wasn't his cup of tea.

Reluctantly, he shifted his gaze to the window, "How exactly do you do that?"

From the corner of his eye, he could see Riley slowly look up at him. There was something in her eyes, something hot and terrifying and enticing. He didn't let himself dwell on it. He just kept his eyes on the passing bodies of New Yorkers as she answered

"Write about something that makes you feel everything."


The next day, something horrifying happened.

At lunch, Maya Hart plopped herself down right next to Lucas Friar. This sandwiched the Texan between her and Zay, leaving Farkle and the only other empty seats across the table.

All three boys watched the girl in confusion as Riley fumbled her way into the seat beside Farkle, setting her tray down with shaking hands. Being with him alone in the dark, cozy corner booth at Topanga's? That felt as natural to her as breathing. But being inches from brushing his shoulder in the crowded cafeteria? She couldn't think straight.

Farkle seemed unfazed, if a little confused. He gave her a questioning look as Lucas spoke up across from them, "Uh, well, hello? I'm-"

"We know who ya are, Ranger Rick. And I'm sure you know that I'm Maya and that's my good influence, Riley." The blonde nonchalantly flicked her fork in her best friend's direction.

Zay jumped in, "Yeah, we do but, my question is, why are you sitting with us?"

Maya sighed, as if just talking to the two boys was exhausting her, and gestured to the pair across the table, "Because Dr. Farklestein and my girl are-"

"Chemistry partners!" Riley yelped.

"Friends?" Farkle wondered aloud.

The brunette's heart skipped a beat in her chest, her cheeks instantly flushing a bright, strawberry red.

Friends? Farkle had said 'friends'! So, logically, even though he was still an ass from time to time, he couldn't hate her anymore, right.

All eyes seemed to be on her. She found Farkle's electric blue and relaxed, seeing only a mildly curiosity there and no offense. Nodding jerkily, Riley picked at the food on her tray, "We're friends."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Zay threw up his hands, "I thought ya'll hated each other?"

Farkle glared at his friend before shrugging, "I got valedictorian… And she's alright."

Riley focused herself to stay calm and collected, even if her heart hammering in her chest, "Oh, wow, thanks, Minkus! I think that's the nicest thing I've ever heard you say."

He threw her a smirk, "Don't get use to it, Matthews."

"So, Farkle," Lucas broke in, eyeing the pair with suspicious eyes, "Have you talked to Smackle lately? She told me it's been awhile and I think she misses you."

Zay sighed, wistfully, "Man, I miss her! She was the only person who could deflate Farkle's ego."

Maya, catching Riley's furrowed brow, spoke up, "Isadora Smackle, right? We went to elementary school with her."

"Yeah, she hung out with us in Freshman and Sophomore year but then she moved to Sweden on this advanced college program." Zay explained before turning to Farkle with an overdramatic pout, "Took poor Farkle's heart with her!"

"Shut up, Zay. It wasn't like that." Farkle snapped, gripping his tray and bouncing his leg under the table.

Riley's mind began to whirl. She knew about Smackle, the girl had been mentioned over various study sessions and, as Maya had said, they had gone to the same school so long ago. She knew Farkle had been best friends with the other girl through middle school and some of high school, but she'd always thought that was it. She always thought that Smackle and Farkle had been friends.

Before she could stop herself, Riley asked, "So, what was it like?"

Farkle turned to her, eyes narrowed. She kept her gaze wide-eyed and innocent, chanting over and over to herself that she was not jealous and that she had no right to be jealous.

After a second, the young genius shrugged, "We dated, she moved, we're friends. It's not a big deal." He glared the last few words to Zay, who just laughed.

Even though Farkle seemed a little irritated, Riley couldn't help but feel relieved. She didn't really know why, it wasn't like him not being with someone else meant he wanted to be with her, but still…

It sort of left a door open, didn't it?


Farkle Minkus sat on his bed a few nights later, eyeing the cell phone in his hands with trepidation. It really had been too long since he'd last talked to Isadora… Yet, it still felt too soon to call.

They'd broken up two years ago, been apart as long with only the rare visit home here and there otherwise. It wasn't that he was still gutted over what had happened. Honestly, he hadn't been all that gutted when it actually happened.

Isadora had invited him to the library to study. She'd been wearing a red sweater and a black skirt. He'd just finished summarizing the theory of motion that they'd been discussing when she'd set down her pen, looked him right in the eye and said Farkle, I feel it would be most prudent to end our romantic relationship.

He'd been confused, but then she'd explained her opportunity to go to Sweden and he'd understood that. He'd choose Princeton over her; he couldn't be shocked that she'd do the same in her own way.

Besides, it was nice to be with Isadora but he knew life wouldn't be much different in her absence. So they had parted ways and that was okay because they stayed friends.

And then, out of nowhere, on the last call Smackle had gotten giggly (she didn't giggle) and said Zay was calling. She ignored the call but Farkle had pressed, asking what about Zay got her all flustered. Smackle had blurted out that she had a crush on their shared friend.

It shouldn't have bothered Farkle.

In their relationship, Smackle had always been the one to care more, love more, want more. Farkle wasn't in love with her, wasn't planning on marrying her or even getting back together with her. Smackle was easy for him to communicate with and he cared about her but he'd always known that that wasn't enough. He just hadn't expected her to be the one to move on first.

So he'd made some excuse to hang up and they hadn't talked since.

Time for that to change, Farkle sighed and opened his phone to dial the familiar number.

The phone opened up to his already open contacts, Riley Matthews newly added information staring up at him. He had her number now, had texted with her back and forth after school. The word 'friends' had kind of just tumbled out of his mouth the other day in the cafeteria but now it appeared that she actually was just that.

And something about Riley Matthews was what had motivated him to finally call Isadora. He couldn't understand how she could move on when he still hadn't cared for anyone like her. But Riley Matthews, she understood everyone, sympathized with everything, and she seemed pretty damn happy.

Maybe he should give her ways a shot?

The understand part, obviously. Not the whole moving on to a new romantic relationship part…

Deciding to contemplate that whole situation later, Farkle selected 'Isadora Smackle' and held the phone to his ear.

"Hello, Isadora Smackle speaking."


It was Friday and Riley was feeling pretty depressed.

Auggie had a school performance and both Cory and Topanga had promised to be in attendance. Maya's art was being displayed in a gallery downtown as well, so Riley had traded shifts at Topanga's with Katy so that the mother could go praise her daughter. Riley would make it up to Maya the next day by helping to pack her exhibit up.

At that moment, however, she was stuck on clean-up duty, waiting for the ten minutes left until close to pass so she could go home and curl up in her pajamas. No one liked working Friday night, yet they left her to do it alone.

Riley gathered a cup and saucer, stacking her tray carefully to compensate for her incurable clumsiness. The cafe was finally empty, the lights dimmed to help lessen Riley's growing migraine. She flipped the lock on the glass door, not caring if it was technically too early.

Her back was to the door, rinsing dishes, when a knock sounded to indicate someone's presence. The knock was loud and an insistent, enough to make the girl sigh and turn round to see who was beyond the glass.

Farkle fucking Minkus.

"What the hell…?" She muttered, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist as she quickly crossed the dining room to the door. Spinning the lock, she ducked out into the small courtyard, leaning back against the door. "What's your problem, now, Minkus?"

To her utter shock, the boy actually smiled, "No problem at all, actually. Matthews, you are a genius!" He held up a paper, a bright A+ inked on the front, "This is my first A+ from Pace and it's all thanks to you."

"That's great, Farkle!" Feeling giddy and maybe just a little lightheaded, Riley laughed as her cheeks flushed, "Well, I'm not surprised. I am the best writer in Abigail Adams, after all."

Farkle laughed, like really laughed, and it made him so beautiful Riley lost her breathe for a moment, "And so modest, too!"

"Hey, this ego is well deserved." She jokingly defended, playing with her hands.

Farkle nodded, "Yeah, but now that I know how to write, I have to take you down a few pegs. As your friend, of course."

Riley rolled her eyes in exasperation, "Don't be mean to me! I got you an A+, you should be thanking me right now."

Farkle bit the inside of his cheek, dimming his smile somewhat, as he eyed the accusing finger Riley had aimed at his chest. Nodding, he leaned in. His voice was quiet and soft against her ears, his breath and scent sweeping over her like a tidal wave she didn't mind drowning in.

"Thank you, Riley."

Electric blue eyes filled with galaxies met chocolate brown eyes filled with humility and all of time and space seemed to freeze. Riley couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, could only register the fact that he had just called her 'Riley' for the first time ever and had whispered it so gently. Farkle didn't know what the feeling was in his chest, just that Riley Matthews caused it and he was completely okay with being burned away by it in that frozen moment.

Her hands flew up, grabbing his face, and pulling his lips to hers in a collision that put the Big Bang to shame.

The pressure in her chest finally eased as her hands slipped, arms coiling around his neck, pulling him closer, bring him in. He was so much taller that she could barely manage the reach on her tiptoes, kissing him as fiercely as the flame igniting her cells, but she didn't care. Not right then, at least.

Farkle remained frozen, his always-fiddling hands still in his pockets, before he seemed to realize that this was Riley Matthews and she was kissing him.

Reanimating, he kissed her back with more emotion than he'd previously thought he was capable and would later deny feeling. Those same hands came up, leaving a trail of goosebumps down the girl's arms until they stopped to grip her hips. He pressed her flush against him until there was no space, just clothing, between them.

A moan escaped Riley's lips, bring Farkle crashing back to reality. And he was kissing Riley Matthews.

Still gripping the brunette's hips, Farkle gently pushed her back and broke the kiss, the spell of it all fading away. He stared down at Riley as she kept her eyes closed for a moment, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. Once the pads of her fingers touched her lips, her eyes flew open and she stared at Farkle in utter horror.

Opening his mouth, Farkle tried to speak but Riley cut him off, "I- That was- I just-"

As she sputtered, a hand came down to push against his chest, her eyes following his own arm to where his fingers still dug into the skin showing between her jeans and t-shirt. Farkle's gazed followed her's and his ears turned pink as he jumped away from the girl, dropping his hands to his side and pacing a few strides away.

Tugging at his hair, he spun around, "Look, Matthews-"

But Riley was already spinning towards the door, squeaking a "Night" over her shoulder before closing and locking the cafe behind her.

Farkle stood alone in the small courtyard, trying to think, trying to comprehend the fact that Riley Matthews had just kissed him like her life depended on it and he'd kissed her back and it had felt so damn right.

And then it hit him, hard.

…He liked her.


AHHHHH! THEY KISSED! IT KINDA HAPPENED! THEY BOTH KNOW THEY LIKE EACH OTHER, JUST NOT THAT THE OTHER FEELS THE SAME! Did you guys like it? I really hope so! Because this chapter kind of marks the beginning of the real craziness I have planned. I hope you guys approve, tell me, I LOVE feedback!