A/N: Hey, lovelies~ Sorry for the late post. I have a lot of homework, so I don't have time to post Dx Anyways, enjoy~ I didn't have time to proofread, so there may be errors.

Chapter 4

I'm a light sleeper, so I wake up when I hear someone knock on my door. I groan because I can only sleep in during the weekend. Whoever is at the door is taking my sweet, sweet time away from me.

Now, don't think I like sleep because I get to escape reality. The truth is, I don't even dream. I close my eyes, then I open them. Sleep is simply a black nothing between passive livings. No, that is not the reason as to why I like sleeping either. My reason is the same as any other young adult out there: I just want my goddamn sleep.

I reach the door and see Lucas standing there. I sigh. "What do you want, Huckleberry?"

He replies with a smirk, "I want to make it up to you." It's too early for this (fine, early for me), and there's no question to what he wants to make up, so I take an involuntary step back to which Lucas laughs. He says, "Don't worry, Shortstack. It's nothing bad. I think. Actually, I'm not sure."

"That's reassuring."

"Well, during the entire time I've known you, you never told me if you can skate."

"That's how you're going to make it up to me?" I don't know how to skate, but I still think it's a strange idea for comfort.

"Well, I figured I could do two things: say sorry and find your passion."

I raise my eyebrow out of complete disbelief. "And you think skating is the solution," I say flatly.

He gives me a crinkly-eyed smile that makes me want to punch him as my knees go weak. "I was hoping we'd at least try."

I purse my lips. "'Kay. Just know this isn't a date, Hopalong."

"I would never think of it," he says. "There's just one condition."

"And what's that?"

"Don't fall in love with me." He winks, and that time I do punch him in the stomach, but when he hunches over, he simply laughs.

"I won't."

After I get ready, Lucas and I head to his car. When we approach it, I say, "Are you kidding me, Hee Haw?" His car is a worn down pick-up truck, and I swear he chose this car for the sole purpose of getting on my nerves.

"I kid you not," he replies then opens the passenger door for me. I roll my eyes then get it. Lucas walks around the front of the car to the driver's seat. When he gets in, he starts the engine and turns on the radio to a country station. As if that isn't enough, he blasts the music through the speakers. I roll down the window as if that will lower the volume and literally scream, "WHAT THE FUCK, RANGER RICK?"

"What do you mean?" Lucas says disingenuously. He puts an arm around me and warbles, and I'm conflicted between hitting him and singing with him. I settle for yelling, "Put your hand back on the steering wheel!" He laughs at me, decreases the fricking volume, and places his hand back on the steering wheel. "I'm just messing with you, Shortstack."

"Or you're trying to kill us."

"That wouldn't be such a bad way to go," he says softly. I study his face and notice the contemplative way he stares at the road. I decide to try to make this into a joke because that expression on his face scares me. "You're crazy, Huckleberry."

Lucas raises his eyebrow at me and asks, "Would it be so bad to die with a friend?"

I don't know how to respond to that. He has a point there. I mean, life sucks when there's no one to love, so I just mutter, "We're not friends."

He laughs. "Sure we're not."

Too many people too many people you idiot Huckleberry you idiot Huckleberry. How am I supposed to learn how to skate when there's a person RIGHT NEXT TO BOTH OF MY ELBOWS? I swear, I've rammed into every person on this rink and received dirty glances from a couple of them. When I sneer back, Lucas says, "Don't worry about them, Maya. Just focus on yourself."

"Yes, Ranger Rick, let me focus on ALL THE BRUISES I HAVE." People turn to look at me, but I don't care. I'm too frustrated to be quiet.

He laughs and says, "Sorry, I forgot about that."

"You forgot that I fell so many times?! Dude, it happens every five seconds!" Just as I yell that, I slip, but Lucas catches me. I'm about to thank him when I look into his eyes, the eyes I used to love staring into. God, I wish I could see the color of them, or at least remember it. I clear my throat and shake him off of me. "Thanks…," I say, a bit disoriented

"No problem," he says and rubs the back of his neck in a cute, nervous way. Wait, no. I take that back. Not cute; I repeat, not cute. Argh, skating changes me.

"Are you okay?" Lucas asks.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"You're, um, scowling at the floor."

Shit. "Oh, uh, that's because it keeps making me slip." Before he can say anything else, I skate on forward as fast as I can from him, and—wait. I'm skating, and I haven't fallen. I'm skating, and I haven't fallen! I'm so excited that I turn my head around and say, "Lucas! I'm doing it!" I laugh deliriously, and he joins me, and that's when I run into a burly, dark man. I hit the floor hard. "Sorry…," I say without even checking to see if the guy is there, but I hear him reply in a gruff voice, "No problem. Let me help you up." I take his huge hand and stand up. I almost thank him—almost¬¬—when he says, "Hey, you single?"

Unbelievable. I still get hit on despite my talk-to-me-and-you-die aura. Is that attractive? Is it attractive to hit your body into someone's back from lack of grace? Although I became less approachable over the years, I also gained more self-control, so instead of punching him in the gut and getting the hell out of there, I say, "No, but I'm not interested, thank you." I turn to leave, but his overly muscular arms stop me. "Woah," he says. "I think the least you could do after body slamming me is to let me take you out." I can't tell if he's smiling or growling. "Now I'm going to ask you—" Suddenly his arm isn't around me, and I feel a warm, familiar one replace it. "Woah," the guy says. "What do you think you're doing, man?"

"The question is what do you think you're doing?" Lucas says. "My girlfriend deserves more respect than that." Normally I would elbow him for calling me his girlfriend, but I think this situation is an exception.

"G-girlfriend?" the guy says. "Sorry, man. I didn't know she was taken."

"What? Can you tell just by looking at someone if they're taken?" Lucas asks with a menacing voice. This is getting out of hand, so I tell the guy, "Go before he loses control." The guy nods then leaves like his life depends on it. Which it probably does.

I lead Lucas to a table out of the rink to calm down. He takes slow, deep breaths and presses his hands to his temples. "Sorry, Maya," he says once he's regained relative control.

"Don't be," I say. "If you didn't come, I probably would have attacked him."

He laughs. "I just imagine you jumping on top of him and demanding him to say mercy."

"That is actually what I planned on doing," I joke. Then I get up and say, "Come on, Hopalong. We should go now. As much as I like skating, I think it's more of a hobby than a passion."

"I know," he says.

"What?"

He chuckles. "Nothing. Let's go."

"Okay…"

Lucas puts his arm around my shoulders, and I put my arm around his waist. He offers me comfort, so I do the same for him. It's nice to know someone else is broken. It's so easy to forget, though.