"I suck at writing." Maya groans, letting her head fall forward onto the desk. Instead of the hard wood, she hits something soft, and realizes Lucas has pushed his arm out to break her fall. She sticks out her lower lip in a pout. "Write this for me?"

He snorts.

"I am not writing your entrance essay. You can do it. You've already finished all the artwork to submit with it." He presses a kiss to her temple and she scowls at him. "You just need to focus." He mutters, eyes flicking toward the TV in front of them, where a rerun of Dukes of Hazzard is playing.

"I am focused. I just suck at writing." She stares angrily at the laptop in front of her. It's a little battered, one Riley gave her after getting a new one, but it gets the job done.

He sighs.

"No, you don't. Now stop whining and write your essay. Tell them why you want to go to their school, why you love art, what you think you can get from the program." And then he turns back to the book in front of him, getting comfortable on her bed and ignoring her. Presumably so that she'll focus.

She makes a growling noise, but begins punching away at the keys. Whether he's right or not, she needs to have this finished and dropped off by tomorrow night. She's already left it to the last minute, so there's nothing really left to do but suffer through.

A couple hours later, she's proof reading the finished essay one more time. She looks over to see Lucas sleeping beside her, face buried against his arm. He hates it when she watches him sleep, but he always looks so peaceful, sometimes she can't help it. It soothes the raw feeling a little. She glances at the clock on her computer, sighing when she sees the time. It's almost one. Her mother and Shawn are sleeping at the other end of the hallway, and the only reason Lucas hasn't been kicked out yet is that she snuck him in through her window sometime around nine.

Closing the laptop, she pokes her boyfriend.

"Hey." She whispers. He stirs, blinking up at her.

"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep, eliciting a pleasant tightening sensation somewhere beneath her stomach.

"One. Are you staying? You know Shawn will wake up the second he hears your truck."

Her mother's boyfriend still doesn't know that they're dating, but Lucas spends enough time at the apartment that his truck's growling transmission is recognizable. And if Shawn finds out it will be a lot harder to sneak him in and out.

"Uh." He rubs his face sleepily. "Yeah, that alright?"

She rolls her eyes, standing up to tug off her jeans.

"I don't know, my other boyfriend will be here in a bit. Could get awkward." She grins sarcastically at his reflection in the mirror, and he snakes an arm around her waist, toppling her backwards onto the bed. She rolls over on top of him.

"Oh really?" He asks, blue eyes half-lidded as he raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"Well," he runs a hand along her side, stopping when he gets to the bare skin on her hip. "I think you should call your other boyfriend and tell him you'll be busy."

She swivels around, straddling him. Her tongue darts out, resting between her teeth.

"Oh? Doing what?" She asks innocently, pulling her tank top over her head. His eyes drop automatically to her chest, and she waits for them to trail back up to her face.

He pretends to think about it, then flips her over, pinning her against the bed with his arms.

"Me."

.-.-.-.-.-.

A few days later Maya is starting to feel uneasy. Things are going well, too well, and it's been way too long since something sad or terrible has happened. She can feel it coming, like the heaviness of a storm in the air before it breaks. She just knows.

"Maya."

She's pulled out of her thoughts when Riley says her name.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry." She blinks. Riley frowns, concern etching itself over her features.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Maya scrubs a hand over her face. "Just thinking." There's been a lot to think about in the past few weeks. She dropped off her portfolio at Cornell, and was given a stack of paperwork in return. It was all to do with the scholarship and her financials, and since it doesn't need to be filled out until the summer, she'd shoved it in a drawer. Her father has left a couple voicemails, and she's not really sure what part of her last words to him had been unclear, but she just deletes them now. Kermit had his chance ten years ago, and she's better off without him.

Her days with her best friend are beginning to feel numbered, in a real way that wasn't nearly as threatening a few weeks ago.

And then there's Lucas.

He was so perfect; they were so perfect for the first few weeks. And now Maya can tell something is wrong. Like the storm that's about to hit, the one she can feel, she just knows. It's late April, and her birthday is in a couple of days, and he usually pretends to blow it off while suppressing the kind of excitement Maya can never muster up herself. But this year he really doesn't seem to care. Which wouldn't bother her if it wasn't so out of character.

She glances back at him, his eyes trained on the blackboard, open but glazed. He just hasn't been there since the weekend. Never really present. She taps her pencil sharply on his desk, and he blinks at her.

"What is going on with you?" She asks quietly. Mr. Matthews allows a certain level of discretion for the select group of students who practically live at his house, but she doesn't want to draw attention to their conversation. Lucas's brow furrows.

"Nothing."

Maya stares back, not budging.

"Is it my birthday?" She wonders. Maybe he's feeling pressured. They haven't exactly been together long, and it occurs to her that he might think she has expectations, and-

"What?" He looks confused. "No."

"Are you-have I done something?" She persists, though her chest twinges the way it always does when she's worried she'll ruin this.

His eyes finally sharpen in response to that, locking onto her.

"No. Maya, it's not you-"

"Oh god," She mutters, eyes widening.

"I-can we talk about this after class?" He mumbles, and she turns around to see Mr. Matthews staring daggers at them.

"Okay." She says, but it feels like lead is settling in her stomach as she turns back around.

When the bell rings, she waits for him, watching as he collects his books and throws them in his backpack. Eventually, he looks up at her, jerking his head toward the door.

"Let's just-"

They make their way into the hallway in silence, Maya's hands curling into fists. When they're finally in what Lucas decides is a secluded enough corner of the school, he turns to her.

"I have to leave." He blurts out, blue eyes worried. Maya stares at him.

"Wh-now?" If he's breaking up with her, she thinks he needs to work on his delivery.

"No." He groans, dragging the heel of his palm across his face wearily. "No, this weekend. I need to…I have to pick up my mom."

"From the airport?" Maya asks, more confused than ever. She knows his mother has been in Texas a lot recently, more so than before, and that he's been in a worse mood for it. But she still feels like she's missing something.

"From Austin." He says, and she blinks. There's a bitterness in his voice that she doesn't like, one that's all too familiar. One that's usually coming out of her own mouth.

She just looks at him for a moment, the dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his jaw, the stiffness in his shoulders. And she knows. He's not going to Austin to pick his mother up. He's going to retrieve her, to drag her home. Tentatively, she reaches out, fingertips dusting over his temple, stretching to cup his cheek.

"Okay." She says. He blinks.

"You realize this means I'm going to miss your birthday, right?" He asks, as though he suspects she doesn't fully understand this, any of this.

"Yeah, Huckleberry. I know." She pats his face gently. "But you know me, I'm not big on birthdays anyway."

His hand comes up, covering hers where it still sits on his cheek. It's a bit of an awkward reach for her, considering their height difference, but she never gets tired of how easy these touches come now.

"I'm sorry."

And he is, she knows, she can see it. She shrugs.

"I knew what I was getting into when I fell for Mr. Perfect." She says with an exaggerated sigh. And then, a little more seriously, "I knew how you are. For some reason, I like it."

For the first time today, he cracks a smile.

"You love it." He corrects. She rolls her eyes.

"Don't push your luck." She drops her hand to clasp his. "I have to meet Riley at Topanga's in-" She pulls his wrist up to eye level, glancing at the watch Farkle got him for Christmas. "-twenty minutes."

"Okay." He pushes through the school doors and she follows him toward the parking lot. "You want a ride?"

"I don't know if we have time for that." She says distractedly, eyes on her phone as she texts Riley. He stops suddenly in front of her, and she walks straight into him.

"I meant to Topanga's." He says, voice strained, and she glances up at him, blushing when she sees the look on his face.

"Oh. Sure." She climbs into his truck, ignoring the way he's staring at her and propping her feet up on the dash.

On the drive, he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "the death of me", but she ignores that, too.

.-.-.-.-.-.

"Are you sure you don't want to move the party to Sunday? We could just wait until Lucas gets back-"

Maya cuts her friend off, holding up a hand.

"No, Riles. It's fine. I'm not totally sure how long he'll be gone anyways, so there's no point." She takes a long sip of the smoothie in front of her, frowning at the amount of notes Riley has made in the process of planning this party.

"But Maya-"

"Seriously. That will just make him feel bad. Let's just move on."

From the moment Maya told Riley about Lucas's probable absence on her birthday, the brunette has been trying to find a way to shift their plans to include him. But the truth is that his trip is a lot more complicated than Maya had let on to Riley, and she doesn't think he needs to added pressure of having to be home in time for the party, even if they push it back a day. He has bigger things going on, and she can respect that.

"Alright." Riley looks unconvinced, but lets her eyes drop back to the stack of paper spread across the table in front of them. "So the thing with the parents is at 6, we're all going to dinner at Kong's, and then the real party is at the Minkus warehouse." She scribbles something, then looks back up.

"Sounds good to me." Maya says easily, folding her hands behind her head. She really doesn't care about birthdays. As a kid they only meant that Katy would be home less and less as the month wore on, so that she could afford to get Maya a gift. And inevitably, almost every year, the roof would cave in or some punk would break a window and all of that money would go to something much more important than a new toy for Maya. Things have been better in the past few years, now that she has the Matthews and her friends, and Shawn spoils her to the point of embarrassment, but she still doesn't have good associations with the date. Some things are just tainted.

And now Lucas won't be here, the only person she was really looking forward to having around for it. First birthday with a boyfriend, sentimental maybe, but disappointing nonetheless.

But she's not one to turn down a party, so she smiles and agrees to whatever Riley wants and remembers to be grateful that she has a friend who'll plan something like this for her in the first place.

"You need a new dress." Riley tells her. Maya rolls her eyes.

"I do not. I'll wear the green one we got from Demolition last month." She argues. She can't afford a new dress, not now. She's already scraping every cent earned from her sometimes-part-time job at the diner Katy used to work at and squirreling it away for a prom dress, not that she talks about it. Riley will just feel guilty, and offer to pay, and Maya knows that she'll probably have to get some second hand dress from a consignment shop, but some things are just worth dreaming about. She doesn't need a new dress for the party.

"Sure, and that will be fine for dinner, but it doesn't exactly fit the theme of the warehouse party." Riley reminds her. Maya frowns.

"Theme?" She asks, earning a stern glance from her friend.

"90s music icons?" When Maya doesn't respond Riley sighs: "Maya, this was your idea."

"Ohhh." She pretends to remember. "Right. So who are you going as?"

"I was thinking I would see what my mom has in her closet, but I'm not sure how much of it would fit me." Riley is slim, but at 5'10 she towers over her mother. "They would probably be perfect for you, though." She muses.

"Yeah." Maya nods. "But I'm not sure how much your Mom's stuff will help unless I want to go as Hippie Spice." She's seen pictures of Topanga in high school. The only 90's icon they remind Maya of is Alanis Morrissett.

"Mmm." Riley acknowledges. "Well, we've got a few days to figure it out. I think Auggie still has some of your Stones shirts from sixth grade."

"The 90s wasn't exactly their best era." She points out, which leads to Riley getting defensive, and the whole conversation somehow veers into a discussion on whether or not Riley should major in musical theatre until suddenly the sun has gone down and Maya has to leave in order to be home for dinner.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The next few days come and go, and by the time Thursday rolls around, Maya is actively avoiding talking about her birthday. Lucas isn't going to be there, and she loves Riley but if they have to have one more conversation about sound systems and hair crimpers, she's going to scream. Which is why she's hiding in her bedroom playing with Ginger instead of in her usual spot at Topanga's.

The tap on her window has her groaning in defeat.

"Riles, I love you, but you can rent a strobe light and a disco ball for all I care." She mumbles, moving toward the window before realizing the face staring back at her is not Riley's. She slides the latch open and Lucas climbs in, raising an eyebrow.

"You never really struck me as the disco type." He tells her, tilting her chin up toward him and kissing her lightly.

"I'm not." She winds her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his shirt. Sometimes she just likes to feel how solid he is. "I'm just tired of talking about the party."

"Right." He lets go of her and sits on her bed, plucking Ginger up and setting her in his lap. "I actually wanted to talk to you about that."

She leans against the wall, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay."

"You're being really understanding about all of this." He says slowly, like that's a problem in of itself. Maya bristles.

"And?"

"I just…it sucks. And I'm sorry. I really do want to be here for your birthday, Maya." He rubs a thumb across her ferret's head, thoughtful.

"I know. But you have stuff to take care of. Family is complicated, trust me, I know that." She sits beside him, and Ginger scampers across his thigh to crawl into her lap. His face clouds. "If you ever want to talk about it-"

"Uh, that's not…it isn't why I came." He mutters, and Maya has to fight the sigh. He's so open about other things, but when it comes to his parents she hits a brick wall every time. She isn't used to wanting to help someone so badly and having them shut her out. It's usually the other way around.

"Okay." She says quietly. "So why are you here?" Because it sounds like there's a reason beyond wanting to spend time with her. He shrugs off his jacket, pulling something from the inside pocket before tossing it onto her chair. He hands her the box, square and flat, and about the size of a cocktail napkin.

"I wanted to give you your birthday present." He smiles at her, and though the darkness that settled on his face when talking about his family doesn't completely go away, it lightens. Maya turns the box over in her hands, not really wanting anything but to make him feel better. If the only way she can do that right now is to open his gift, she can do that. Her fingers tug at the bow, a thin black ribbon tied around the plain cardboard box, and it unravels. Slowly, she lifts the top, and stares at the object inside.

'What-" She pulls it out of the box, turning to look at him.

"It's the ring I got for riding Tombstone." His voice is low, vibrating against her skin where their arms touch. The ring is silver, slightly oxidized in parts, a plain band adorned with a stamped signet, a year, 2015, and a saddle embossed under it.

"You're giving it to me?" She asks, confused. She knows how much the ring means to him, how much the day meant to him. And she hadn't been a part of it, hadn't supported him at all. She still remembers that first flash of fear, like a bolt of lightning cutting through her when she saw the other rider get thrown. So she'd given him an ultimatum, and run away, and Riley had been there for his triumphant moment while Maya had cowered as far from it as possible. She doesn't understand why he would want her to have this.

As though reading her mind, Lucas shifts until he's facing her directly.

"You know, that day you swore you'd never talk to me again if I rode that bull." He says, as if she needs reminding.

"I remember." Her mouth is dry just thinking about it. She'd been so angry with him.

"And I really thought about it, whether it was worth losing you just to prove something to my family, to myself." He muses.

"I guess you thought it was." Maya mumbles. Not that she'd expected him to back down, not even then. He laughs.

"I thought there's no way she'll actually do it. I didn't believe you. It wasn't until after, when I was laying on the ground looking up at Riley, and I knew you weren't there. You still weren't there. And I realized what I'd done. And I just-" He reaches out, stroking her cheek as though to remind himself that she is there, she is now. "my heart stopped. I didn't really know what it meant back then, but I realized that you were important to me in a way I didn't totally understand."

"I tried." She whispers. "I was fucking furious with you. If it hadn't been for Riley…" She shrugs. "I don't know what I would have done."

"Mmm." He nods. "Yeah, Riley was pretty upset by the whole thing. She told me you were mad at me because you cared about me but you didn't know how to say it."

"Well I was. And I didn't." She glances down at the ring in her hand. "But here we are." She says, looking back up at him. "So I guess we figured it out." And she's touched, even if she still doesn't really understand why he's giving her this of all things. A reminder of one of the longest four seconds of her life.

"I don't regret it." He tells her, and her stomach clenches a little. "Riding the bull. But I guess I just wanted you to know that even though I'm missing your birthday, I'd choose you. I will always choose you."

Maya closes her fist around the ring, then leans in and throws her other arm around his neck.

"No more bulls?" She asks, noses touching. He grins.

"No more bulls."

She presses her lips against his, soft and gentle, a thank you. He pulls her closer leaning forward to press her into the bed. He feels safe and dangerous at the same time, sometimes having him this close makes her dizzy, breathing in his scent and feeling the heat of his body pressed against her.

"Lucas." She mumbles his name as a warning, but he takes it as encouragement, hand bunching in the hem of her shirt. "Wait, hold on." She pulls back, and he blinks at her. "Where's Ginger?" She wonders, worried for a moment that they're crushing her ferret. He scans the bed, sitting back when he doesn't see the rodent anywhere.

"Um." He holds his hands in the air, obviously a little disappointed in the derailment of his earlier agenda.

Maya hops off the bed to peer under it, and manages to pull her ferret out from beneath the bed skirt, securing her back in the cage in the corner of the room. When she turns back to Lucas, he's laying shirtless on her bed, hands folded behind his head. She hates when he does that, if only because it makes his biceps do that thing she finds distracting.

"Shawn could literally walk in at any moment." She tells him, because her mother's boyfriend just kind of shows up a lot, considering the irregular schedule his career in photography seems to entail. Lucas quirks an eyebrow.

"You still haven't told him about us?" He asks. Maya climbs onto the bed, straddling him, despite the warning she'd given a few seconds before.

"Even if I had I don't think he'd be too happy to see this." She says, tapping a finger against his chest. She picks up the ring from where it fell on the comforter. It seems small for a men's ring, and she frowns, puzzled, when it slides onto her finger in a perfect fit.

"I had that sized." Lucas nods at the ring. "It was bigger when I got it, but you have tiny fingers, so…"

She's not sure how he knew what size ring she wears, but she lets that slide for now.

"Thank you." She says.

"Happy birthday." He replies. And she's realizing it probably won't be, not without him there, but she forces a smile anyway.

"Yeah." She wonders if he can feel her forcing the cheer into her voice. "Happy Birthday to me."