title: still on my string
a/n: so this is more of a filler chapter than anything else, it's still only been two... almosts (but tbqh you could see this chapter as more as a.. "second time" than the first, either or)? lmao idk. it's an interlude, i guess, because there's a pretty mighty time jump to the next chapter. it's moments after last chapter, so maya's still seventeen, and josh is still twenty. edit: nope messed up, josh is maya is eighteen (nineteen later on) and josh is twenty-one.
and once again, thank you for all the reviews/favourites/follows! it seriously means a lot to me :)
and oh yeah, i changed the title^^
summary: Josh and Maya play the long game. (And it's one second each seven times she wishes she hadn't started it—but at each end comes a new beginning.) —josh/maya, always almost, and never quite right.
[I do my thing, and you do your thing. You are you and I am I. And if in the end we end up together... it's beautiful.]
and i'll use you as a warning sign
that if you talk enough sense, then you'll lose your mind
The first thing Maya sees are purple metallic-y splodges all over this place of overwhelming light and there's something that reminds her of what would be an equivocal scent coming from somewhere... not that Maya would want to know. Things like that just need to stay like that.
She blinks one, two, three times before she feels somewhat sober (if that is what it is) enough to wake up.
Aaaaaaaand nope.
Maya collapses, frenzied, downright breathless already, and good God is one Maya Hart confused as bloody Mars right now, but she's so fucking drained not a fibre gives a damn about what she's feeling—that is, until someone stirs and groans and Maya stops.
It's annoying, it really is—because whatever happens, however many years pass, whether you feel for them or not, there's that one person in the whole world who makes you lose everything... and it just has to be him, doesn't it? Stupid, stupid Josh, the one guy she's oh so helplessly, drastically, been pining over for goodness knows how many years. It's not a lie to say the little spark that once made her fierce is gone, and even more so perhaps she's forgotten about most of him these past two years attached to someone else, but then again, no, it hasn't. Nothing's changed, not now, not ever, probably (and that's the worst part, it is). Because he is Josh, she is Maya, and she's contradicted herself too many times it's so lifeless, but she can't deny it—it's him, it always has been. Whether she likes it (she doesn't) or not.
"Where the hell am I?" he groans again, and Maya tries to control herself. C-o-n-t-r-o-l. Calm the fuck down.
And they're both two stupid cliches. Maya hates stereotypes—she hates them because everything's so predictably perfect and harmless and Maya hates having to live up to whatever is there because she's a trail of devastation in everyone's wake.
"Good morning," Maya says roughly. Sure, Maya had a little too much to drink last night but she's okay, mostly. Alcohol doesn't fuck her up too much unless it's one of those days, but today isn't. Her head hurts a little when she jerks it too hard to the left, but aside from that, she's okay, she's okay, she's okay. She clears her throat as she steadies herself—she's been wearing this dress all day, all night, and it's comfortable but tight, way too tight to spend the night in. So she tries, she tries to stand up but her legs feel like jelly and her feet hurt like hell.
"Maya?" he speaks, finally.
"Yes?" she replies nonchalantly (she hopes, she hopes). She kicks off her heels as she marvels the sight around her—purple smudges, silver spots, passed-out people, empty wine glasses and champagne bottles and disposed ties. God, what a mess, what a damn mess she's got herself into. She peers at Josh carefully, waiting sharply for his reply, but there's nothing. He looks confused, and Maya wants to ask if there's anything he wants to tell her but Maya is patient. Just about. It's a million seconds until she gets it.
"Oh, shit," he groans as he gathers himself up (or attempts to, more like). And the effects have kicked in.
"Yeah, you look like it," Maya mumbles, running a hand through fading curls. It's greasy and lank and screams disgusting but it's pretty much the least important thing right now.
"Ha," Josh remarks.
Maya laughs, but it's weak. "Are you alright?"
Josh bites his tongue. "Yeah, except I think my eyeballs are gonna pop out. And my brain might explode but I'm doing great." Then there's an awkward, pregnant pause. "What 'bout you? You alive?"
"Unfortunately," Maya says.
Josh nods. "Things are so..." He pauses, looking around, a mouth dropping open. "Shit, what the fuck went down in here?" Maya tries to stifle a laugh, but emits as some spluttered cough, and his attention is drawn back. "Why am I even here? I don't even remember..." Josh looks so lost Maya wants to tell him, but what's the use if things are blurry enough for him anyway? "Oh no," and his face almost loses its colour. "Cory called me up last night and asked me to babysit. Babysit. Where the hell is my niece anyway?"
"Um," Maya starts. "Well, she and Lucas—"
"Nope," Josh shakes his head way too fervently and drops himself back onto the sofa. "No thank you, I'm fine without knowing that for a lifetime."
(Maya kinda likes hungover Josh.)
"I'm sorry," Maya grins. "Well, what're you gonna do?"
"Maybe I'll jump out of the window," Josh says thoughtfully. "Fuck, he's gonna kill me."
Maya laughs again, eyes starry and a vision hazy. "Well, seeing as I'm the less hungover one here, I'll make ourselves some Brazilian coffee so we can get to shit and refrain from killing ourselves." Josh stops for a second, like some brainwave, spasm, she doesn't know, but it's weird. He's still for a moment until he shakes his head and gives Maya this bright smile (that makes her weak it kills her) and then he comes over, pats her on the head, and tells her she's amazing. Just like in story books, a cliche, a beautiful, messed-up stereotype.
But Maya ignores it. As he bends down to pick up cups and saucers and anything covering the ground, Maya gets to work, turning on the coffee machine and she tries very hard not to think about everything she'd told him before, about Zay, about Zay, and about Zay—oh, and kissing Josh, of course. How could she forget?
And then Maya realises that her and Josh are not the only people in the room—in fact, they make up only a probable twelfth, and it's a matter of time until they wake up and scream the hell out of themselves. A matter of time.
And then, of course, of course, so very conveniently, the first to rise is Isaiah Babineux. Of course. Of bloody course.
This is the Matthews' household, after all. Miracles, cliches, you name it. It is only Maya who notices, though, Josh is too occupied with getting his blowing head out of his ass to try and figure out how to open a rubbish bag without cracking his skull.
Well, this is going to be interesting.
"Heya, earlybird," Zay muses as soon as he catches sight of the blonde. Maya smiles back politely, and pulls out an extra mug from the cupboard—she tries not to speak because things will get oh so awkward, and it's too early for even more discomfort like this. Zay catches on because he's Zay and he knows her too well—he edges closer and Maya panics inwardly because this is not supposed to happen. Exes are supposed to bugger off the moment you break up with them—but then again Zay isn't an "ex", not really, he's a friend, and you can't break up with friends like Zay, because Zay is Zay and dropping him is measurable to dropping yourself. It's Zay, and it's Maya.
And Josh finally looks up in exactly the wrong moment. He winces but doesn't say a word, instead pointedly leaves, nodding at the two of them—she hates how he just... knows. (And it's Maya's turn to wince as he walks off in the wrong direction, too, cough, Riley's room).
"All good?" asks Zay.
"Yup," smiles Maya, the first word she's said to him in a month now? They'd conversed shortly once after their break-up, but it was two words over Skype with Lucas and Riley: nothing. It's nothing now, it has to be, because although Maya may have had feelings for him at some point in their sort-of two years as boyfriend and girlfriend, Maya sees Zay as a brother. He's her brother, and she's his sister. Not the Lucas-and-Riley way.
But it's oh so awkward she would do anything to get out of this moment.
"Well, awesome," and Zay flashes her a grin. "Are you as hungover as you look?"
Maya laughs out loud and it all feels better. But not quite. "Such a charmer," she says. "But I could totally say the same to you."
"Only," he replies.
"Well, I've made some coffee," Maya says quickly and she pours out the kettle, three equal cups displayed on the kitchen counter. Maya's tempted to call Josh's name, but even though Zay knows Mayakindastilllikeshim she'd give the world for them not to be in the same room as each other. She passes him the Muffy mug and he takes it gratefully, giving her a warm smile.
"I saw you with Josh last night," he says, so matter-of-factly it's almost like it hasn't been said at all.
"You did?" she asks, almost rhetorically. She takes a sip herself, looking back to see where Josh has gone off to.
"I did indeed," he carries on.
"...So?"
"I'm really happy for you, and—"
Josh stumbles in, coughing loudly. Almost like he's heard everything. (But surely he didn't, right?) He picks up some more junk from wherever he is at, and dumps the black bin bag in a pile next to the recycling. And he looks up at the two of them.
"Oh! Josh," Maya says.
"Hullo, again," Josh says. He turns to Zay. "Babineux."
"Matthews," is Zay's prompting reply. And then he stands up, a drained mug placed down in front of him. "Well, I'll let you guys recover and I'll do my best at shooing anyone who lays on my sight, 'mkay?"
"'Mkay," Maya nods. And she hands Josh another mug of lukewarm coffee. (No, their hands don't touch, nonononono, not a cliche, nonononono.)
"Thanks, Gorgeous," he says, and he sits himself at the table—and Maya follows.
They don't say anything. Maya thinks about Josh and as she looks over at him wonders if he's thinking about her, too. (But it's a long shot.)
By ten the apartment is cleared and it's like it always has been.
...It's also about the time Riley finally decides to appear, wearing, rather discernibly, one of Lucas' shirts and a pair of skinny jeans—casually. Maya snickers as Josh immediately averts his gaze and coughs all too loudly, and Zay starts shooting questions, and Farkle props an eyebrow and murmurs something Maya can't here, and Smackle points at her and shouts bluntly and Maya walks over, scooping her best friend in her arms and tugging her to the bay window.
"HUCKLEBERRY!" Maya shouts. "Get your naked ass covered and shove it, I have very important matters to discuss right now, and trust me, the stench of sex is enough for me." It's a reluctant two seconds but Lucas mumbles something as Riley widens her eyes and repeatedly slaps Maya's arm. Lucas' out all flustered and sheepish and he's out like lightning. "Right. So now we can talk."
Riley bites her lip and Maya knows it's excitement.
"You have a lot to spill then?" Maya grins.
"Mayaaa," Riley manages. It's dorky little Riley again, just like the Riley she pushed at the subway, straight into Huckleberry's lap. And her little stutters and little looks and princess smile. And her smile, her smile, and every little thing she does that Maya has missed so freaking much. Her best friend. Her best friend, growing up. Riley needn't say more because Maya is already smothering her.
"Did he hurt you?"
"No!"
"And he didn't force you, or anything."
"Maya, it's Lucas!"
"Yeah, I know, but I had to make sure," Maya smiles, a little sadly. "Ickle Rileyboo, growing up already."
"It's only, you know..." And she goes a little red. Maya pats her little brunette's head. That's her—she's had it, and she can't even say it.
"Ring power," Maya says almost immediately.
"Ring power," Riley says instantaneously.
"Thunder—"
"Lightning."
If there is one thing that makes her feel normal, even for just a second, it's this; it's Riley.
The rest of the little Matthews family arrive from whatever escapade at around ten to four. By then the place is spic and span and it's almost like there wasn't some deranged New Years party hosted in these very grounds, no, no, who would even consider such an absurd accusation? It's not like anything happened, nothing too important, nothing like Riley losing her virginity or Maya falling for a certain brunette college student all over again. Or maybe it was just her waking up to the realisation that'd been sitting in front of her for all too long.
But then again maybe Maya knew somehow, but the way they ended things pretty much summed up their relationship for the rest of their lives: friends. Really awesome friends—in college together, currently. The perfect innocent story, beautiful, depressing, everything. Yes, he's still three years older and she's still three years younger but three years is almost as good as three months now. Right?
One slight problem: their "long game" or whatever's been on hold for two years. Two fucking years. A long time to forget, huh.
Except Maya doesn't—Maya didn't. She remembers everything about him, about them—about what could have been. It really is depressing, but at least Maya remembers—remembered.
The TV is blaring and she is sat in between Riley and Lucas and Zay and it's just like the old times. With Farkle and Smackle just beside her with Sudoko pads and popcorn bowls. It's uncanny, almost.
Maya suddenly wishes for magic. Something, anything, to finish this mess she calls herself.
Love Actually ends, but no one bothers to change anything, so the credits roll on for hours and Maya has to virtually drown the sounds from Lucas and Riley and whatever the hell they are up to. Zay stands up after a while and Maya's almost relieves he does. But then it hits her just how alone she is.
"Hey, family," a voice uplifts the somewhat gloomy environs.
"Hey, family," says a smaller one.
"My brother," Cory remarks from the kitchen table, out of habit.
"My brother," Josh replies. Topanga rolls her eyes at them.
Maya sighs. He always comes at exactly the right time. (The exactly right time to be wrong.)
"Did I miss anything important?" Josh asks innocently—the ones who notice them shake their heads. And then he lets Auggie run wild somewhere and before Maya can say a word he's plonked himself beside her on the sofa. He looks at her and smiles, one she returns—slightly confusedly. Because she's uncertain about a lot of things, what she's saying, what he's saying, why he's next to her, why she's next to him—what she's feelings, what she thinks—hopes—he might be feeling. Does he remember? Did it really happen?
Maya finally averts her gaze and there is Zay. And he flashes her a knowing look and a kind smile. Then he follows Auggie as if he knows it is time to give them space. But nothing is said, not for a while—the telly is blank, and there's faint scrawling and sloppy kissing and Josh has this disgusting frown upon his face but he somehow stays sitting next to Maya.
"So, um," Maya clears her throat. It feels too unnatural to be true. "You feeling okay?"
"Never better," he smiles. "And you?"
"Same," Maya nods. She's always been shit at this "small talk". She thinks of the things she doesn't have—a lot, especially subtlety. "Things are still a little fuzzy?"
"A little?" he says and shakes his head in disbelief. "The last thing I remember was in 2017."
There is a flash of hope in Maya's eyes.
"...Cory called me, at some point, and summoned me here," Josh says, reciting his thoughts. "And then he, Topanga, and Auggie left, and then... Riley shoved a suit up my nose, and then... then there was the party. And I was sitting, and drinking, and doing nothing, and then I saw you." He pauses again, like before. "Well, I think I did. You were wearing the blue dress and your hair was all curly and you were drinking, too." Maya bites her tongue—hard. There is more than a pause next—Maya really contemplated on whether he does remember, or not. There is a side that wins though, each and every time. "And then the next thing I wake up. Here." He points at them right now, and Maya notices Riley look up from Lucas' chest, shooting them a moderate look of question. Lucas seems to be blind from all.
"Oh," Maya says.
"Is... was there anything important?" he asks again.
"No," Maya says, and she tilts her head at an angle. "I don't think so."
"Oh, good," Josh says—is that a smile? Maya can't tell because something is clouding his face, a grit of his teeth, a bitter motion. But Maya can't hold on to hope when there's nothing, so she ignores it, like mostly everything that's happened today. Maybe what happened (she'd say yesterday, but it's not) with them at midnight would all but become a pile of nothingness, somewhere in the back of her mind, hidden, safely closed and turned hazy, like what she is in Josh's mind.
"Maya?"
It's not Josh this time. He's leaning back on the back of the couch, like he's trying to sleep. This time, it's Riley.
"Riles?" Maya returns.
"Bay window," she mouthes at her, and she stands and Maya only follows.
Riley tugs Maya this time round and as soon as they're in she kicks the door shut and pulls them to the bay window. Maya feels fifteen again.
"So what's the problem?" Maya asks.
Riley shakes her head. "No problem, it's more that..." She looks around, like someone's going to pounce on them. Maybe they are, who knows? "I saw the way you looked at him today."
Maya raises an eyebrow. "Looked at who?"
Riley shakes her head disbelievingly. "You know very well who I'm talking about. And you and I both know that there's something going on—more than you're letting on—more than you're making him believe." And how did hungover Riley know everything? Oh yeah, she's Riley fucking Matthews. "So tell me, Maya. What did happen that you remember and supposedly he doesn't?" Supposedly?
"What do you mean?" Maya inquires.
"Maya," she ushers.
"Riley," Maya echoes. "Look, it's nothing." And she stands up.
"Don't be like this, Maya," Riley says, and pulls her hand so she's back propped against cushions. "Something important happened yesterday—today—as you told Josh. Well, didn't, but you know you did. I saw the look on your face—I saw the look on his, too." ("I still have no idea what you're on about.") "Yeah, you do, and you gotta stop stepping back like this—you've done this too many times. Look, face it, you like Josh. You never stopped liking him since you were eight. And whatever went down two years ago hasn't stopped you from liking him, not fully."
"He was a dick," Maya states.
"Yes, he was," Riley nods. "But that's over now, two years." Maya doesn't say anything. "Now look me in the face." Maya doesn't dare comply, for she might break apart, so Riley takes ahold of Maya's face and gently moves it closer to her own. "Look me in the face and tell me you don't like Uncle Josh. Oh, and tell me that nothing—absolutely nothing—happened between you guys that is oh so very important."
Maya doesn't say anything still.
"Great," Riley mumbles. "you're being very cooperative."
"Riley, stop, please," Maya begs.
It is a gentle, warm look that stops them both. Maya is pleading, and she sounds so broken, confused, and Riley stops.
"Peaches," Riley says. "If you love someone, you tell them."
Maya blinks—three times, precisely. Wait, so she loved him now? Yeah, sure, whatever, there was this phase at sixteen when she really did think she loved him, and then there was little fourteen-year-old Maya who was positive she was in love with him, or something. Whatever, she's seventeen now—technically closer than eighteen than anything else.
"I don't—" Something else gets caught in her throat. "Riles, you did not just quote Grey's to me. Tell me you didn't."
And Riley blushes adorably. Then the frown, disapproval, all kicks in, of course, it's bound to. "You're amazing, Maya. You're beautiful, you're smart, you light up everyone's day. And you deserve to be happy." Maya opts to not look into her best friend's eyes—or she'd fall apart, undoubtedly. She squeezes Riley's hand, one, two, three times though, and she squeezes back.
"But he doesn't remember," and it's a whisper. It's a lame four words, but it's all she's got.
"He doesn't remember..." Riley starts and it's a cue for her to finish. And it's a whisper back.
"Do you remember the night Zay and I broke up?" Riley doesn't seem too thrilled with the subject change but she nods her head along to the story and Maya scolds herself for this terrible idea. "Me in that ridiculous glittery frock you picked up on the way from Dartmouth and you dancing on the top of Zay's roof wearing nothing but a feather boa. You were so trashed that night, Farkle had to carry you everywhere." Maya smiles to herself as Riley cringes. "You were convinced Lucas would be cheating on you, or something, and I told you that he was way too loopy to even consider that, because he loved you. And people in love don't do that." Pause. "Then you asked me why I was still with Zay if I wasn't in love with him, and then I asked you how you knew I wasn't. You were still so drunk but the only person making sense and before I knew you it you were talking about..."
A knock goes unnoticed.
"So I told Zay the truth... again," Maya says quietly. "We've always been better at being friends, better at talking that way. When you're with him it doesn't feel like you're... with him in a way that's so entirely different to why you are, and that's the great thing about Zay. He's my brother." It's the best worst thing to happen, this realisation. "We dropped you off here, and then Farkle and Smackle wandered off to do their own thing, that left me and Zay. So we talked. We talked for a long time, like an hour, maybe more. And it was great."
"Where is this going, Maya?" Riley asks softly.
"I don't know," Maya bites her lip and answers honestly. It's a prayer, something she needs so much but will never have. "Somewhere, I hope. Really fucking hope." And then she wonders if it's really worth the while. Riley's look tells it all. "And so we parted, Zay and I. He told me he liked being my friend. And I said I liked being his. So it was mutual, seriously, more mutual than anything I guess I can ever know. I was happy. I was really damn happy, smiling my way down the high street for some bloody reason like some fool. Then I fell—at some point. Bashed my head against the tree and then I realised my mum's necklace was missing and my knees were all grazed and disgusting and nothing even hurt but I was crying. Really ugly crying. I hadn't cried like that for two years. Then I realised the reason I was crying and then I was crying some more and then I was thinking about why I was thinking about why I was crying, which..." Maya shakes her head at a split second of confusion. This is way too much for that already. She gazes out the windows. "It always goes back to Josh. It's always been him; since, what, third grade? And I hate it, because he's so nice and clever and weird and a great listener and every time I want to hate him, I can't. Even when he's in a mood and pissy and decides it's great to just, I don't know, ruin everything and..." She contains herself. Two years is too little, too much. It's like yesterday and then it's not. It happened, and it feels so surreal it cuts her in half. "I want to hate him because he makes me feel all these things. So I'm crying and soaking and frazzled and I wind up at his dormitory. And he lets me in and he's so nice and I want to punch him in the face and even so he lends me a shirt and let's me sleep in his roommate's bed and he gets my bag and spare clothes and walks with me to class and—"
Something else. But that passes with no second thought either.
"He thought you were crying because of Zay," Riley says matter-of-factly.
"Yees," nods Maya. "Up until... up until I told him, just before midnight."
"Midnight," repeats Riley. "Convenient."
"Because I kissed him," Maya frowns. "I kissed him, and he doesn't remember."
Riley doesn't say anything, and it was coming, Maya knows she knew from the start, but Riley wraps her arms around her best friend forever.
"You wanna know something?" she says so quietly it's barely audible.
"What?" Maya asks, something even smaller.
"He's a terrible liar, too."
Riley and Maya finally leave their conversation and the bay window behind themselves and as they enter the kitchen Topanga shoots them both strange looks, to which they try to ignore—Maya in particular, especially by the way she's looking at her. It's like accusatory, but not quite. Empathetic? Maybe.
"You girls are just in time for dessert," she gives a small smile.
Maya finds herself (just like fate) seated beside Josh and he gives her a small nod that says Are you alright? and Maya returns the favour with hone silently screaming Just about. She looks away. Please stop looking at me like that.
Topanga is still staring at her with atypical eyes and Maya is still trying to ignore her.
But Josh sits beside her and she's anything but collected. And she doesn't even know half of it.
Following the aftermath and unwanted collision Maya likes to call New Years, she barely sees Josh at college. He's hidden away with studies and countless assignments, what with being his last year, but Maya senses an air of... avoidance.
Yes, it's two months until she sees him next—properly.
She's piled on with portfolios, too, and while Kerry spends most nights with her boyfriend Maya's left alone to do a lot of thinking. So she thinks about him.
It's two months and it feels so damn strange.
His eyes are still green, like hers are still blue. But they're drained, a little bit.
"Maya," he smiles.
"Josh," she smiles back.
For a second she thinks it's gonna go in some devastating loop or something but instead he takes her hand and pulls her somewhere. She wants to ask but she's going to wake up in two seconds and it's going to be nothing. But he's still holding onto her hand and by then they are somewhere, somewhere secluded, a little.
"I need to ask you something," he says quickly.
"I do, too," she says. It's time, it has to be. She's not going to blend in the background and pretend it never happened. Because if there's something she's learnt (not just listening to a rambling half-naked Riley Matthews) is to let the important things play its part. It's unhealthy for her to pretend all the time—if any at all. She doesn't want to be the one to explode when they deflect on her and she loses everything—everyone—that's ever meant something to her. "Well, I guess... tell you something."
He nods slowly. "You first."
So she complies. And it's nervewracking, it fucking gives her some liveway nightmare and all creeps in and creeps out but it's over in two seconds and she mumbles the wretched words but the moment they're out it's. All. Wrong. She barely says it. A flash, maybe, but it's all.
"Wh-what?" Josh asks out of earshot.
"I told you a lot of things, that night on New Year," Maya says, this time a little steadily. Just a little bit—she's still having some inward panic attack, nonono she's okay she's okay she's okay—"And a lot of things you probably don't remember." He watches in awe and curiosity and that, that Maya doesn't know how to feel about. At all. The fact that he's not saying anything scares her the most. "But a lot of things did happen as well. One of being me, and you."
"You kissed me," he brings out all of a sudden. It stops. E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. Maya's voice wavers on a single not, over and over again and she stops. "You kissed me, I kissed back, and now you're going to tell me it was all some spur-in-the-moment thing or shit, and then you're going to say it's better off if you and I just both ignore it ever happened so we can get back to out lives and carry on as best buds, or whatever else there is to be. Which also destroys the purpose of my question." His voice is a little bitter (if Maya is not very much mistaken), and he looks taken aback by himself.
"Well," starts Maya. There is absolutely nothing for her to even try to murmur. After a long while and as Josh starts to blush Maya speaks: "So what was it? Your question."
He doesn't answer. "Well... technically I had two. But it doesn't matter now."
"YES!" Maya almost shouts. "It does matter. And anyway, how do you even know I was going to say all that?"
She really isn't that predictable, is she? Oh wait, her name is pretty much a cliche and her face is a stereotype so what's the difference?
"Can you say something please?" Maya asks, clearly annoyed.
"I-I don't have an answer, Maya," Josh frowns. "I really just don't know."
I don't know... I don't know everything.
Then it hits Maya. "You remembered. You remembered."
Josh blinks a few times and slowly a smile is on his face. "You think I'd forget?"
"Well, you did tell me everything was a little hazy," Maya says.
"Still is," Josh says. "But that was the least haziest thing of them all."
There is some silence upon themselves. It's confusing, their feelings, and at eighteen and twenty (for another six weeks she's caught up!) they still have no clue about what to do with themselves, with a game that they never even got round to playing. Are they supposed to act on them? Do they wait? It's too soon? It's too late? They keep the silence and their minds on earth and Josh turns to Maya, finally.
"So we don't forget it," he says, asking rather than stating.
"Not this time," she says, and smiles a little sadly.
She wants something, more than this but she's scared.
She's always scared.
The bell is loud and noble and students rush in and out, even from where they are. So as time passes Josh gives Maya a final nod before turning around. Then Maya is left to slap herself: YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING MORE, YOU EMPTY-HEADED MORON. So much for doing something productive of what was available. (But at least it was something, she guesses.)
Just as they are about two point five metres apart he turns around again. Maya is still staring as he walks and catches the glint in his eye. He is none the more reluctant and smiles loud and clear. "We're still on for someday?" is what he says.
Maya breaks out into her own happiness. And she nods, like the naivety she was at fifteen years old and her little airy nonsense sitting in front of that fire and shaking his hand and believing everything that came out of his holy mouth. It's a matter of time and faith and perhaps Maya finally has a little bit of both to let them move on. To the next step—the first step.
He flashes her one last smile, which Maya again returns. And it's different, it really is.
It's a promising one.
a/n: okay, that's the longest chapter so far x'D hope you enjoyed it, i have several more coming up fairly soon and yeah, that's pretty much it, nothing too interesting hehe. also once again THANK YOU for every single review, you guys rock! :)
to the guest reviewers (sorry, my answers a little sloppy, it's past midnight, i'm a little crazyx'D):
Melissa: thank you sooo much! and they bring the best of each other, in my opinion, so that kinda just happened lol. and yasss of course, they are soulmates, after all ;)))
Guest: ;D THANK YOU!
Jen: thank you :) and drunk riley is the best haha, it's not the last of her x'D
Ash: thank you, it means a lot :) and ;)
Guest: yass they did, what with that chemistry and all ;)) us joshaya shippers are all in this together :P
Allie: thank you :) and yes of course joshie boo would do anything for her x'D plus i dunno how long i could have kept them as a couple lmao.
Guest: yay indeed, i need me some more joshaya fluff :P
Gmw fan: that means a lot to me, i'm so glad :)
Guest: THANK YOU :)
joshaya: ;))
Joshaya: i'm so glad i did :) and thank you so much, all these words mean a lot hehe :) and also.. xDD
Guest: ;((
Guest: nein, zay is too bby for that and there's only one guy who holds maya's heart mwahahaha :D
Amanda: thank you so much! :) i'm pretty sure as hell they've always wanted their someday ;)
Guest: wow, thank you! :)
Jess: thank youuu! :)