"Madame Secretary," called Lucas, chasing Maya down the hall.
"Hey, congrats," she smiled, too tired to bother with a witty remark.
"You okay?" the cowboy asked.
"Course," she answered with a shrug, "Why wouldn't be?"
"I don't know," he responded, "You just seem a bit, well, off."
"Not off at all," she assured him, "I'm as on as ever, don't you worry about me."
"Okay," he drew out the syllable, hoping it emphasized his point- she was being super weird- but electing to drop it in favor of what he'd came after her to say after all. "Well I just wanted to thank you. I know it must've taken Riles a while to convince you, but I really appreciate the video. And, you know, not telling everyone about what I'd said."
"You know," she started, "I don't like being told what to do."
"Oh, trust me," he replied, "I know. That's why I saw so shocked Riley got you to go along with all this."
"Listen, Hee-Haw, I didn't just 'go along with it' cause Riley told me to. I make my own choices, so if I happened to go all soft and ask your mom for the contact info on some of your cow-tipping', honky-tockin', rootin'-tooting' buddies, that's on me, okay. Riley can't make me behave, you know that."
"I do know that," he said, approaching her slowly, as if she was an easily startled animal, "That's why I was so surprised. I didn't think it was possible you would've done this willingly. For Riley, sure, even for Farkle, maybe, but for not me."
"Speaking of Riley, where is your princess?" the blonde girl, changed the subject, and there was a bite in her voice would barely register to the untrained ear, but for someone who's been studying her since the day they'd met, it was clear as bells.
"She's returning the unicorn," he answered, plainly, without embellishment.
"Unicorns aren't real," breathed Maya, as tears pricked her eyes.
"What's wrong Maya," he asked, concern flooding him. What could've happened to make this strongwilled, resilient girl hurt like she was clearly hurting?
"Billy isn't the only jealous one," she responded, slumping against a locker and sitting on the floor. It was dirty, Janitor Keiner hadn't made his rounds yet.
"What do you mean?" he feigned confusion. Surely she couldn't mean-.
"I don't want to be your Secretary of State. No 12 year old girl wants to be Secretary of State," she said, by way of explanation.
He breathed, of course it'd been too good to be true, the video and this? No way she wants me. "Okay, you don't have to be secretary. Just tell me what you want and you've got it."
"It doesn't work like that," she smiled in spite of herself. Everything was so simple to her cowboy.
"It does," he repeated, wiping a tear from her cheek. His hand was practically the size of her whole face, and her soft, smooth skin contrasted his own farm-boy, calloused thumb.
"Girls like Riley," she started, lip jutted out in an involuntary pout, "They get to be princess."
"You can be a princess," he whispered, her face was now inches from his and he could smell her cherry lipgloss. Cherries were her favorite, and his too.
"No," she shook her head, "there can't be two princesses."
"Why not?" he asked carefully.
After a moment of hesitation, where Lucas thought for sure she'd laugh and say the whole thing was one big joke at his expense, she answered him, "There's only one prince."
And with that, he closed the gap between them and kissed her.