A/N: To all of the gracious guests who I can't PM, thank you! Love ya guys. To Amazing Al, don't worry about there being deaths! I never see the point in killing off characters unless I'm writing a Sci-Fi or dystopian society. I wouldn't want to cause unnecessary burden.

Without further ado, Chapter Nine. I like this one the most so far, and you'll see why.

Chapter Nine

"Maya and Lucas, please stay back for a few minutes," Ms. Kossal says after class. "I want to discuss your project with you."

Is that a good or a bad sign? From my experience, it's bad, but from Lucas' experience, it's good. Did I bring him down, or did he lift me up? Shit, I hate one-on-one conversations with teachers-well, in this case, it's one-on-two, I suppose.

"This painting is quite common in the artistic world," she says, placing Lucas' and my canvas on her desk. Uh oh. That's not a sentence you want to hear in an art major. "But..." But? But what?! "You both have brought the sunset to life in a brand new way I haven't seen before. Most artists paint this sky knowing that it's beautiful, but I can see you both feel it's beautiful. And your essay on the piece was simply magnificent. I loved hearing both sides of your story." She turns to Lucas. "Lucas, I hope you get to visit Texas soon, and Maya." Now she faces me, and I can hear my heart in my ears going ba-dump, ba-dump. She grins at me. "I hope your endeavor ends in a success."

I let out a sigh, and my shoulders slouch back to my usual posture. "Thank you, Ms. Kossal."

As Lucas and I start to leave, Ms. Kossal calls out, "And Maya?"

Lucas and I turn around, both curiously. "Yes?" I say.

"I know you'll reach your full potential."

I smile at the compliment. "I hope so."

. . .

"Lucas," I say. "Why are we at the gym?"

I think he tries to smirk, but it comes out as a grimace. "I need to keep myself in shape, but...well, look around."

I do as he tells me to and notice groups of hormonal, love-struck girls checking him out, and I literally slap myself on the forehead. How could I forget about the fact that other people can get attracted to Lucas? That's so stupid of me.

"Then why not ask Riley to come?" I say. I don't sound bitter, just bewildered.

He furrows his eyebrows, also confused. "Why would I ask Riley?"

"Isn't she your girlfriend?"

His eyes widen. "You didn't hear about it? I thought at least she would tell you."

"Tell me what?" I say, brushing my finger along the treadmill. I know I wouldn't know. We haven't spoken in two months, yes, but we weren't connecting for three years now.

"I broke up with her."

My head snaps to face him. "What?"

He seems completely troubled by my lack of participation in gossip regarding my best friend. "You really didn't know?"

I hesitate for a moment before responding, "Riley and I haven't talked in a while."

"Oh...," he says then looks down for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"For what, Huckleberry?"

He just shakes his head. "Just know that I am."

I nod, not wanting to push him, and look around. I notice two girls approaching with smitten and flirtatious smiles, so when they're in hearing range, I lean closer to Lucas and slowly drag my finger across the muscles on his arm and say, "You know, Lucas, you're especially hot when you're working out."

"What?" he says as if I would have any other reason to flirt with him other than to be a good friend. I glance at the girls, and he catches on quickly. Then he leans closer to me so that we're only two inches apart.

"And you're pretty sexy in that outfit."

I blush but raise my eyebrows nonetheless. "Just slightly?"

"Fine, really."

I smile. "Well, I did wear this just for you." And it's true. He took me to my dorm after class and told me to change into sweats and a sports bra (to which I slapped him for). When I asked why, he just said that he deserved a gift for helping me see colors again, and I could never thank him enough, so I obliged.

He smirks. Then he decides it's a good idea to kiss me. But luckily, I have fast reflexes, so I turn away, and his lips find my cheek. I glance at the girls again to find that they are too jealous to realize that I rejected his kiss. Or maybe they're even more jealous because he tried.

I look back at Lucas who seems kind of happy despite the fact that his lips didn't touch mine, but I guess it's an achievement enough because I didn't push him away. Flustered, I get up on the treadmill next to him, though I'm at a much slower pace than him. He grins at me, and-oh, God, this is the most mortifying moment of my life-I trip. "Damn it," I mutter as Lucas seems even prouder than before. "Oh, get that stupid look off of your face," I say. "I'm just out of shape."

"Mhm," he teases, totally not buying my excuse.

After an hour of this, we move to weight lifting. And by we, I mean I stand by to count how many time Lucas brings the metal bar up and down.

"So...," I say. "When did you break up with Riley?" Oh God, I sound like one of those fawners, don't I.

He keeps his face blank, and I hate that I can't read his expression. "About three months ago, I think."

"Why?"

"I realized I didn't love her the way I thought I did."

I raise my eyebrow out of confusion, not playfulness. "It took you five years to figure that out?"

"So it would seem."

I wonder what changed his mind. I would ask, but it doesn't seem like he's ready to talk about it. Has he spoken about it with anyone? Do Billy and Zay know?

A half hour later, Lucas looks at the clock and says he has to go to work soon, so we head off to the showers. Many people are uncomfortable with the idea of public bathing, but I don't care. I love water. It feels like it's washing away all of my sins and memories so that I can start over.

When I get out of the stall, I notice my bag is missing. My bag that held my clothes. Lucky for me, the gym has towels for those who forget, so I quickly wring my hair out and wrap another towel around me and head out of the room. Lucas is already waiting for me, and his eyes practically fall out of his head from shock. He jogs up to me and asks, "Where are your clothes?"

I ignore the obvious stares from other guys that pass by as I shrug. "Someone took it, I guess."

"And you're not the least bit mad?"

"Not really," I reply, which isn't a lie. I don't care. This happened a lot in my neighborhood.

But it didn't happen often where Lucas was raised. He trembles, so I put my hand on his arm to placate him, but he's too far gone. He charges back into the gym and yells, "Okay, who did this? Who the hell took Maya's clothes?!"

No one speaks up, too afraid from never experiencing Texas Lucas. I'm not scared, never have been of the boy protecting me, so I stand in front of him and say, "Lucas. It's fine."

He looks down at me, his eyes softening the slightest bit. "No, it's not, Maya. I hate the way they're all staring at you like you're purely entertainment."

I look around at each face, not to verify his statement, but to find a way to calm him down. Then I come across the culprit: the two girls who I prevented from hitting on Lucas. I walk up to them with my head held up high and say nonchalantly, "I know you have my bag. Please give it back."

The one with the high ponytail sneers at me. "And what makes you think I took it?"

I raise my eyebrow. "Do I really need to tell you why?"

"Enlighten me."

"Just give it back," Lucas says lowly from behind me. Even I almost shiver from how menacing he sounds.

The girls' heads snap to him, and they stutter, making incoherent excuses, but Lucas just puts his hands up to stop them. "Just give it back," he repeats.

They run to the back of the room and fumble to return my bag. Then Lucas leads me out to the girls' changing room. He says, "I'll keep watch for you." I think it's highly unnecessary but flattering, so I nod my head and go inside.

As I dress, I wonder about how my life would be without Lucas. The first thing that comes to my mind is alone. So fucking alone. Despite the person I've become, he still stands by me. Despite the secrets I keep, he trusts me. Despite the distance I put between us, he never lets me go. You know that saying "if you love something, set it free; if it comes back, it's meant to be"? I don't believe that. What if you both set each other free? Then you spend your life waiting for the person who's waiting for you. Not that I love Lucas. I just mean that I appreciate his presence.

I walk out to see Lucas staring right at the door and approach him. He cups my cheek and looks at me with an expression I've never seen anyone look at me with. It's both exhilarating and frightening. After a minute of this, I end the moment and ask, "Don't you have to go to work?"

He drops his hand abruptly and says, "Shit! Yeah, I do." Then he looks at me, seemingly conflicted and stressed, and I know he doesn't want to leave me, so I offer to stay at his work with him.

"Really?" he says, already slightly alleviated.

I nod, unsure of whether I'm flustered or just plain nervous.

His shoulders slouch from his relief. "Okay, let's go."

We start walking out of the building when I say, "You don't work at a strip club, do you?"

He smirks at me. "You would like that, wouldn't you." It's not a question, so I slap his arm.

"No," I tell him. "I definitely would not."

"Whatever you say," he says and puts his arm around my shoulders. I don't move away.

. . .

Lucas works at a place you'd least expect him to: a library. I mean, he's just so friendly that I expected him to have a job that requires him to speak. But then I notice all of the sultry glances of every female in the freaking room, and I know why he would choose the library. No one can flirt with him at a place where silence is the etiquette. I sit by him at the information desk as he plays games on the computer to which I roll my eyes. I get up to find a book, promising Lucas I will come back before he can freak out, and go through the aisles. I run my fingers along the spines of the books until I come across one with the title Everything, Everything. That intrigues me because it's so vague, and everything is already everything, so why say it twice? I read the summary and find it's a typical young adult novel with a slight twist: the girl has SCID. I grab it from the shelf and go back to sit next to Lucas who seems so focused on the game that I chuckle and shake my head.

I'm a slow reader, so during the entire four hours Lucas works, I'm reading the same book. My favorite character is Carla, the protagonist's, Madeline's, nurse. Carla gives Madeline such real advice, and I want to believe what she does, but it's hard. It's hard to understand that life's a gift and that I shouldn't forget to live it; it's hard to realize that I wouldn't be living if I didn't regret. I try, but effort doesn't make anything less difficult. It just makes it easier to swallow.

What do I regret? I suppose it's not being good enough, but what is good enough? Who do people I care about want me to be? I suppose that's a question to answer my question, which leads me nowhere.

"Maya," I hear a deep voice say.

"Hm?" I say absentmindedly.

"It's time to go." The voice belongs to Lucas.

I focus on the real world and see him watch me carefully. I wonder what I look like right now, but maybe it's better that I don't know. I get up, and we walk to my dorm. Our steps echo as we head up the stairs to the third floor. There's an elevator, but I want to enjoy the time I have left with Lucas, and he doesn't mind that I do. I'm pretty sure that's why he didn't tell us to take the elevator.

We get to my room, but I don't go inside, and he doesn't leave, so we just stand there. I look up at him and see he's still worried about me, so I say, "I'll be okay, Lucas."

"I know," he says. "I know...it's just doesn't feel like you'll be safe."

"You want to stay over then?"

He appears surprised. "Really?"

I roll my eyes. "This isn't the first time, you know."

He laughs. "Fair enough. Honestly, I should just keep some of my clothes here."

"Sure," I say.

His jaw slackens slightly. "Are you serious?"

I shrug. "Yeah. Why not?"

"I just didn't think you'd agree to something so invasive."

I raise my eyebrow. "How's that invasive?"

"Well...it's your room."

"And?"

"And...never mind," he says, realizing the more he argues with me, the higher the chance will be that I'll change my mind. "I'll be back." He sprints down the hall to get his clothes, and I chuckle to myself while shaking my head. I go inside my dorm and decide I should do something so I don't seem creepy as I wait for Lucas. I look down at my hands and notice I never fixed my nail polish from two months ago, so I grab my nail polish remover, sit on the floor, and begin scrubbing away. When I finish, I get up to throw the cotton swabs away and hear a knock on the door. I open the door to find a grinning Lucas holding his apparel. He walks in, but then blinks like something's wrong. He asks, "Why does it smell like cleaning products?"

I raise my eyebrow. "I can't clean?"

He turns sharply to face me. "No! No, I just meant-"

"Relax, Huckleberry," I interrupt with a laugh. "I was just washing my nail polish off."

"Oh. Are you going to put another color on?"

"I only have black, Sundance."

He nods, understanding why. Then I literally see a light bulb over his head when he drops his clothes onto the floor. He says, "I'll be back."

"What are you going-?" I begin to ask when he leaves, closing the door lightly behind him, the damn gentleman.

Well, I guess I'll just put his clothes away for him. I have an empty bottom drawer, so I put them in there. Plus, it'll be funny to see Lucas bend over to grab what he needs. I note that he only brought two pairs of shirts and jeans, but it doesn't matter. The fact that they're here is enough for me. Not that I would admit that out loud.

Just as I put the last shirt away, I hear another knock on the door. When I open it this time, I see a grinning Lucas holding up a nail polish.

I furrow my eyebrows. "What color is that?" I ask as he walks in.

"Blue!" he replies excitedly, plopping down on the floor.

I sit next to him. "Of course you'd choose your favorite color."

He seems shocked, which is understandable because it's such a trivial detail about him. "You remember?"

I shrug. "I remember random facts."

He nods slowly then reaches for my hand. I don't know why I can't just apply the nail polish myself, but I don't argue. As he puts it on, I watch him. He looks so focused, which is both amusing and adorable because it's just my nails. I reach out to touch the crease between his eyebrows, and his muscles relax under my fingers, but he doesn't look up. In fact, when he's done with one hand, he grabs the other one silently and continues to paint. I stare at him until he says, "Done."

I look down at my hands and think I'm just seeing black until the light hits my nails just right and notice that it's just a really, really dark blue. It's the color of the night sky. I look back up at Lucas and grin. "Thank you," I say.

"For what?" he says, bewildered, though I'm confused about what there isn't to thank him for.

"Do I really need to tell you what for?"

He studies my face for a few moment before concluding he doesn't. "No, I guess not. But I hope you know that I would go to Siberia and back for you."

I do, Lucas, though I'll never understand why. "Or just the room next door."

"Hey, it was two rooms down."

We laugh for a little, and I think we both feel it. The fall that we can't get back from. He looks at me, and I look at him. He cups my cheek and leans forward, and I meet him halfway for a long and slow kiss. I've kissed other guys before, but no one comes near to the feeling Lucas gives to me. He deepens the kiss, and I pull back, saying that I'll get the nail polish on his clothes.

"Who cares?" he says. "I love blue."

I grin, and he pulls me back in, holding on to me tightly. I sit on his lap and wonder how I could have rejected his so many times before. His lips are soft and welcoming and caring. I don't want this moment to end.

Later, we lie on my bed, his arm around my waist and my hands on his chest. In this serene silence, I can finally admit aloud what I've been too afraid to.

"Lucas?"

"Hm?" he says, chin resting on my head.

"You remember how you told me you liked me in middle school?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Me too."

"You liked yourself in middle school?"

"No, you idiot. I've liked you since middle school."

"What?"

"Yeah."

"I wish I knew that earlier."

"Why?"

"I would have stayed by you even when you pushed me away. But I should have done that anyway. God, I'm such an awful friend. I'm sorry, Maya. I should have-"

"Lucas, it's fine."

"But-"

I lean up and kiss him, trying to put everything that he's given to me through my lips. Happiness, excitement, love.

Hope.

For once in my life, the past doesn't matter.

All that matters is me, Lucas, our connected lips.

Now.