A/N: The first official storyline-sort of- starts here! The beginning POV is kind of a filler, because I thought this chapter wouldn't be very long (and it actually turned out being the longest yet o_O) but hopefully you will all find it cute. It's a real fluff POV, and I hate writing (and reading) fluff. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this and as always, leave a review! 3

Chapter 5

10 February, 2016

3:50 p.m.

Maya's POV

"Drive, Maya, drive!"

Hastily following Riley's requests, I took a sharp left turn into the plaza lot, parking my car crooked, and got out.

She ran from my mother's minivan into Stephania's, as I lazily followed behind her.

Considering the Valentine's dance was in four days, Riley was doing some last-minute-desperation shopping in almost every high-end (and low-end, like, thrift store low end) boutique in Miami. Stephania's was our last chance. If she didn't find a reasonable dress here, she would have to cancel on Lucas, which, in all honesty, I don't think Lucas would mind much. But this is Riley's dream, and I'm not going to let her down like that.

"It's my job to let you know that we close at 4:30."
"And it's your job to help me find a dress before then," Riley retorted back to the woman at the front end of the store, her bags already dropped on various seats and her hands shuffling through racks.

The woman raised her eyebrow, looked at me, and then slowly followed Riley.

"What kind of dan-,"

"It's a Valentine's Day dance. Yeah, I know, I'm last minute. I've had a rough week. I would prefer a pink dress, but it doesn't matter. Please, search the racks towards the back of the store. It would be much appreciated."

The woman followed Riley's orders, half-running to the back of the boutique. Riley turned to me.

"You too, sis."

I groaned, dragging my feet to Riley's side.

"How about this one?"

"No."

I sighed.

"Ooo, this one's nice."

"Nah."

"How about this one? It's the perfect shade of pink to match your corsage."

"That one won't work."

I rolled my eyes and sat back down.

"What are you doing?"

"This is the reason you'll never find a dress. You're indecisive as hell and embarrassingly insecure."

Riley sighed.

"Okay, fine, you're right. Give me another chance, please. This is all I've got."

I groaned, yet again, following her and sorting through dresses.

"How's this?"

Riley bit her lip, staring at the dress with a blank expression for a good thirty seconds until I came to the conclusion she didn't like it.

"Riley!"

"I'm sorry! Lucas just won't like any of these."

I raised an eyebrow.

"We're talking Lucas Friar? He's literally the most easy-going guy ever. He'll like anything you wear, trust me."

"Easy for you to say," she said under her breath.

I turned to her.

"Excuse me?"

"Farkle told me Lucas has been into you, since like, forever. Up until now, obviously."

I scoffed.

"Lucas has been my best friend my entire life. If he was into me, I-"

"You what?"

I paused.

"It just wouldn't be the same between us. Trust me when I tell you, he doesn't like me, nor has he ever, and don't believe the kid lying about his own name in order to have a more unique hipster appeal. Riley, you're beautiful. He'll love anything you wear because he loves you."

Riley smiled. By the time 4:30 came around, Riley and left the boutique with a beautiful rose colored dress embroidered with pearls at the neckline and a flowing bottom. She was ecstatic, as was I, and we were both on our way that afternoon with happy hearts and elated souls.

14 February 2016

5:30 p.m.

Riley's POV

Work was always a drag. Sitting next to Arietta and listening to her stories about her family cow's birth this past weekend, I could not be any more bored. But the Valentine's Dance was in just two hours, which pretty much made up for everything. The thought of Lucas Friar handing me a bouquet of flowers as I dramatically walked down my spiral staircase with grace and elegance gave me chills. His jaw would drop, seeing my flawless makeup, exquisite hair, and divine dress, and my mother would be in the distant, snapping photos of the most memorable moments of my life. Most teenagers would scold their mothers for 'over-doing' it that night. But I couldn't say I fit that stereotype. I loved the attention, and my mom and I have even derived a plan for her to crouch down behind the Chinese Evergreen in the lobby, taking the photos at an almost perfect 90° angle.

I should have known this idea was farfetched, though.

Arietta insisted on doing my hair with her "special" iron she'd ordered on an infomercial from 2005, and I agreed on doing my makeup. Not that I was okay with Arietta doing my hair, but you've gotta feel bad for the girl. Her only friend is that family cow, and with it's "postpartum depression", she hasn't been a good acquaintance these past few days.

I leaned forward, applying my pink lipstick and Arietta smiled with her curling iron in her left hand.

"You're a pretty girl, you know. This boy sure will be lucky to have you as a date," she said, grinning with her tongue between her braces, "and I'm sure Farkle will delighted to see your change of style."

I chuckled.

"Sorry?"

"You know, Farkle? Our boss?"

"I know who he is. Delighted at my change of style?"

"Your taste is stunning, and any boy, disregarding Farkle's previous remarks concerning your appearance, would love seeing a pretty face like this."

I blushed, ignoring the blatant fact that Arietta just subconsciously admitted Farkle was attracted to me, or whatever.

"When's your date picking you up?"

"Well, I've kind of had this long-running plan that he would meet me at my place for pictures," I began, picking up my phone, "but he hasn't called or texted me all day and I'm kind of worried."

Arietta frowned.

"Why don't you go find him?"

"The city of Miami is a tad big, don't you think?"

I was increasingly filled with discourage and an immense burden to find him, not only because of the dance but because I was his girlfriend and if roles were reversed, he would do the same for me. At least I would hope.

"You know what, you're right. Let's get out of here."

Picking up the bottom of my dress and slipping on my heels, Arietta led the way out, stopping by Farkle first to let him know.

In the lobby of the animal shelter was Farkle, looking in a handheld mirror as he gelled his hair back with a comb and fixed his bowtie. Surprisingly enough, Farkle was attending the dance, but the real question was if he had a date or was going solo. He looked absolutely handsome, contrary to popular belief, for such a dork, as he turned around and blushed at the sight of us.

"Oh," was all he could mutter out at first, "you… two… look nice."

"Don't bluff. Isn't Riley's hair just to die for? In case you were wondering about purchasing, it's the Cindy Crawford Hair Wand 2005, available only on-"

"Farkle, we stopped by to tell you that we're going to have to take off early. My date isn't returning any of my calls, and I think it's kind of important to find him. You know, before the dance and everything."

"Oh, of course," he said, "but I can't let you two roam the night streets of Miami alone. Please, let me drive you."

"You don't have to do that."

"It'd be my pleasure."

I smiled, looking down at the floor.

"Let me just grab my coat and tell my girlfriend," he finished.

Girlfriend?

Awkwardly, I stood next to Arietta with my hands folded, swaying back and forth a bit until I finally had to ask the burning question.

"Who's Farkle's girlfriend?"

Arietta turned to me, bug-eyed with a strange smile smeared on her face.

"And you care, why?"

I rolled my eyes.

"I couldn't be any less interested in Farkle. I'm dating the cutest guy at Palm West. How do you upgrade from that?"

Arietta rolled her eyes back, scoffing a bit, before briefly answering,

"Her name is Isadora. Isadora Smackle. She's like, Greek or something."

A girl with long, brown hair and a short face came walking down the stairs, similar to my now shattered fantasy of my night with Lucas. Farkle took her hand as she took her final step, subtly smiling at him and then straightening out.

"Where, exactly, are we going?" she said, with a pompous undertone to her voice, flipping her hair over her shoulders dramatically.

"I have to help my friend find her date. Lucas Friar, you know of him?"

Isadora nodded her head, with slight expression of confusion and began to walk to Farkle's car, with extreme delicacy of course, escorted by her boyfriend.

Arietta raised a disapproving eyebrow to be, blinking slowly and sitting beside me in the backseat.

45 minutes had gone by, Isadora was restless, groaning of how hungry she was, and we'd only made one pit-stop—Mrs. Friar's apartment. Mrs. Friar was still in her scrubs, just settling in, and explained that the only time she'd seen Lucas was that morning before she'd left for work. He previously (and briefly) discussed the plans for the dance with her, and how he assumed they would meet there. Farkle, during this conversation, was a little appalled, as was I, shaking his head and raising his eyebrows occasionally.

Our next stop, per requests of the tired Isadora, was to finally go to the dance. Arietta was dropped off at her own house before, and I was left in the backseat with just Isadora playing with Farkle's hair to watch.

Upon entering the dance, couples would line up at the photographer's booth waiting to take their pictures, and I felt extremely uncomfortable denying his request to take my photo (alone, mind you). I sat at my table, while couples starting piling into the ballroom, and searched for Lucas in the meantime.

I was the new girl, so it wasn't like I knew many people at this dance. The music eventually starting to play distantly in the background, as servers came around to our tables putting variations of salads and breads before us. The kids around me dug in, while I, like a widowed woman, sat beside the only seat in the house not filled by another body. It was embarrassing. But it wasn't like I could just leave.

"No show?" said Farkle behind me.

I looked up, in relief that it was someone I was familiar with.

Frowning, I replied, "Guess not."

"That's not like him. It must have been something important. Maybe you should let Mrs. Friar know, I'm sure she'd be worried."

I nodded, slowly turning back around.

"But hey, for the time being, why don't you have a good time and come sit by my table? Maybe pull up a chair or something- I'm sure the teachers wouldn't mind."

In theory, the idea of not being completely alone was tempting, but after being reminded of Isadora's different traits, I declined.

"I don't want to be a third wheel or anything. I'm heading out soon anyways. I've gotta see what's going on with Lucas."

"Oh, come on. You'd be the least thing from a third wheel."

I laughed. You're telling me?

Later on in the evening, after agreeing to Farkle's proposition and being convinced enough to have a couple of drinks, my phone rang.

From: Lucas

Hey! Just wanted to let you know I'm heading home now, in case you were needing me. Hope I didn't worry you. Just had to help a friend out with something. I'll explain everything when I get back soon. Love you.

I didn't answer.