Author's Note: Thank you to those who have already favorited, followed, and reviewed. Please don't forget to REVIEW, and enjoy! (Edited by Chereche!)

Omg, guys I am so sorry for the super late update, but I've been a little uninspired lately...I will try to post a chapter a month at the least, preferably once every 2 weeks or so. I'm trying to get back on track, I promise!

In other matters, I just started writing a Hunger Games fanfic: The 76th Rose, and I'd appreciate it SO much if you guys would check that out! Thanks so much for your continued support!

Disclaimer: I don't own Girl Meets World, just the story!

Chapter Thirty-One: Understanding

"Maya, stop!"

She stormed down the sidewalk, hands in her pockets and her face a brilliant shade of red. There was no way she was talking to him. Him and all the rest of them. She had just made up with Riley, for heaven's sake! So much for that.

"Please, I need to talk to you," Lucas called after her, having to walk quickly to catch up.

"I have nothing to say to you," she reluctantly muttered.

"Just let me explain something."

"Why? Why should I let you?"

"Because I'm your friend, and you should give me a chance. I came after you instead of staying with them."

"Gee, thanks," the hurt blonde said sarcastically. "Look, I didn't even want you to come after me anyway, so why don't you just go back now? That will make everyone happy."

"Not me." Lucas protested.

She stopped, though still not looking at him, and instead watched her breath float in the chilly air as she sighed. He looked down at her, trying to decide what to say and how to convince her to listen. This was too important to just ignore or give up easily, so he had a battle ahead of him.

"It's not as bad as it sounds," he started.

Maya snorted. "So, going behind my back isn't bad?"

"We didn't necessarily go behind your back."

The small girl turned around, her nose and ears already red from the cold. "Then what do you call waiting until I leave the state to talk about me, huh?"

"We just wanted to help you," Lucas said.

"I don't need help!" she shouted, ignoring the raised eyebrows from passersby.

He released a sigh of frustration and ran an anxious hand through his short hair. The bright lights and noisy conversations of the city were annoying, and he didn't want to talk here, but he knew he might not have another chance to talk to Maya. So, he sucked it up and leaned down so nobody else would eavesdrop on their conversation.

"We would do this for anyone else too and you know that."

She didn't answer.

"You have done that—with Riley, and I'm sure you've talked about other people when they're not around," Lucas reminded.

"It's not the same, you stupid Cowboy," she scowled. "You deliberately talked about me behind my back because I'm just a problem you all need to fix."

"You've said that before and we've already had this conversation." Lucas was getting frustrated.

"But, it's true, isn't it? Why else would you have a "secret meeting" about me?" The blonde pursed her lips. "That wasn't the first one either, I'm guessing."

"Yes." He wasn't going to lie and make things worse.

She nodded. "Okay. Good to know."

Turning around again, she began walking through the sea of people, but Lucas groaned and ran after her before she could get very far. Clutching her arm, he maneuvered her past a group of rowdy teenagers, and walked her to a bench behind a restaurant. Maya's eyes showed her anger and annoyance at being dragged along and yet she surprisingly didn't try to run away.

"I'm not letting you get away from this," Lucas explained. "Yes, you have a right to be mad, that's fair. But just know that it was all done with your best interests at heart."

"To who, Ranger Rick?" she asked quietly, her voice raw with emotion. She wasn't even trying to hide at this point, he could see right through her anyway—though heaven knew how or why.

He drew back at the question and suddenly understood more in one sentence than he had in 30.

"Maya, what's really going on?"

"Nothing," she said, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't even want to talk to you right now, okay?" Maya immediately regretted her words however, as she had promised herself she would do exactly what she just said she didn't want to do.

"There's something else going on," he insisted. "Why haven't you been able to paint, and why am I just now hearing about this? Why can't you and Riley make up? Why do you seem to be getting better, but then when it's just you and me, you change?"

She looked up at him with the biggest, saddest eyes he had ever seen. "I can't tell you that, Lucas."

His own eyes crinkled as she used his name and the air suddenly grew colder as she continued.

"What I can tell you is that what you guys are doing—or did—hurts a whole lot more than you think it would. Because if I could count on someone in my life, it would be you and Riley and Farkle and Zay."

"You can," he whispered.

"No, I can't." She laughed bitterly, and looked up at the brilliant, white moon to her left. "It's life, you know? I get it now and I can't believe how incredibly stupid I was for believing you would all just be there for me."

"I don't understand—"

Maya brought her eyes back to his face sharply. "Look, here's the gist of it all: I don't want you to butt into my life, I want you to leave it alone."

"Are you just not going to hang out with us anymore?" Lucas scoffed.

"No, I will. I'll make up with you, with Riley, with everyone else." The small girl let out a heavy breath. "But I can bet you the same thing will happen again, Sundance—and then we'll make up again, and everything will be hunky dory until the next time. It's a cycle, don't you see? And I'm the one who gets tossed and turned each time."

Lucas swallowed and didn't know what to say, so silence hung in the air until Maya filled it once more.

"So, here's to friendship." she reached forward and nudged him with her elbow, a cracked smile on her lips. "And to next time."

With that, she turned around and walked away from him quickly without a second glance. Lucas on the other hand couldn't take his eyes off of her. This was a complicated mess they found themselves in and with each step closer to Maya, he was thrown in deeper. Which was more dangerous than he had thought before because he also had the undeniable urge to protect her, and do whatever it took to make her world happy. To actually see a smile on her face, or her eyes light up when she did something she loved. He hadn't seen either of those for a long time now. And he felt that it was somehow his fault too and he hated that. Lucas didn't know how to advance in the complicated game they had created for themselves and he reluctantly admitted to himself that the next move that came was the same one they had been using for awhile.

The move? It was to just keep going through the game board until they hit another obstacle and had to deal with it. Maya had been right in that case. And unfortunately he knew Josh was right too, that sooner or later things were going to blow and it wasn't going to be good. Lucas had seen Maya break down—which was something he never wanted to see again—and it had been a terrible event. So he could only imagine how bad things were going to be at the end of this game. But, what other choice did he have? There was no way to confront this head on, it was too big and tangled and messy to decipher or try to defeat. That's why he knew he would see Maya Hart tomorrow night to do homework and why he knew she would bring her strong, perfectly calculated mask, and act like everything was alright. But, it wasn't. And everyone knew it.

Why had they all pretended otherwise when she had had her breakdown? Why were they still doing it? Maybe because they had watched Maya drift further away from them and when they were able to finally grasp a piece of her, they had created an imaginary connection. They had all held onto it so tightly, they had lost it and now they were further away from her than before. Lucas was pretty sure he was the only one who saw it. And that both scared him, yet made him even more determined to protect her. While everyone was looking at that girl with bright, hopeful eyes, Lucas Friar was going to find out what Maya wanted. What she felt, and how far away she really was.

And he had never been sorrier that it took him this long to see it.

"Texas, huh?" Katy swirled the straw in her glass.

"Yes, ma'am," Lucas answered awkwardly.

"That seems random." She stood up from her slouched position and gathering up some old dishes, began to clean them. "Doesn't it?"

"Well, there's this big festival."

"I see." Katy smirked.

Zay leaned on the counter, his elbows resting on the marble. "You know what's up, don't you, Ms. H?"

"I believe I do."

"Well, good that makes it easier for us!" He grinned, lifting his hands up in celebration.

"Zay." Lucas shoved him in warning.

Katy looked over with obvious amusement. "What, you think I don't know, Lucas Friar?"

"I'm not sure ma'am, but I don't want to say anything to compromise this event from taking place."

Her smile turned to one of a softer nature and her eyes took on a proud light. "Good. I appreciate the effort, you two."

"You know." Lucas drummed his fingers anxiously on his leg.

"Yeah, I know." Katy smiled warmly and cocked her head at the boy in front of her. "Well, I'd love for her to go. I'm sure we can scrounge up some money, I'll let you know."

"Thanks, Ms. Hart."

She considered him one last time, and Lucas had to force himself not to squirm under the gaze that had been surveying him throughout this whole conversation. "Bring Maya back home safety, okay?"

"I will," he promised. He knew she wasn't just talking about the physical aspect. All of Maya back home? That was what he hoped to achieve.

Dear Diary,

You know, there's something truly amazing about Lucas Friar and it's not just his dreamy, green eyes. It's the way he's so loyal to his friends—like me—cares about what's right—like me—is very positive and uplifting—like me—and all these things are why I like him.

So, why doesn't he like me? Could someone please explain that to me? Look, I'm not blind, I can tell he likes Maya. But it stings. I know I'm not entitled to my first crush, or any boy for that matter, but what do you do with this kind of thing? You can't just let go of your feelings!

I hate how Farkle always is able to tell those things—

"Hey, Riley."

She lifted her head from the book in front of her and instinctively snapped it quickly shut.

"Hi, Farkle. What are you doing here?" That was serendipitous.

"I needed to talk to you," he sighed, sliding in through the open window to sit next to her.

"What about?" She asked curiously, scooting over to create more room for the new arrival.

He looked nervous, but Riley chose to ignore it. "Well, you and Lucas, if we're being frank."

The brunette shifted awkwardly but attempted to keep her face void of emotions like she knew Maya always did. "Okay," she said slowly.

Farkle squinted his eyes and examined her face, much like a scientist examines a species and Riley calmly and patiently waited it out. He did it a lot.

"What are you the most upset about right this very moment?" He finally asked.

"Maya, of course," Riley answered without hesitation.

"Why?"

The brunette lifted her pointed chin and raised her eyebrows. "Because she's my best friend, Farkle. Why would you ask me that? You already know the answer."

"True," he agreed. "But there's a point. What you miss most is Maya's friendship, because you guys both have an incredible bond that surpasses most friendships. When people begin to lose something they either let it go, fight hard for it, or look for it somewhere else." Farkle looked into Riley's big doe eyes to confirm that she was listening to him seriously. Confident in what he saw, the boy continued his speech. "You have fought day and night, physically and emotionally for Maya Hart—for over 3 months. We're tired, you're tired. You're looking for what you have lost in other places, Riley."

She recoiled backwards, almost like he had shocked her with an electrified wire. "What do you mean?"

"Lucas. Friar." Farkle grimly stated.

"I liked him way before this whole thing—" she began, shaking her head vigorously and a little over exaggeratedly.

"Yes, but he's the one of the closest things you can get to Maya," he explained gently. "It's nothing unusual, but I need you to understand that you are approaching this wrong."

"You're saying the only reason I'm still attached to Lucas is because he's linked to Maya?" Riley visibly shrunk back like a sunflower curling away from the harsh wind and rain.

"That and he was the first boy you liked, but yes—that is what I've observed." Farkle slid closer and reached for her hand. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Her facial features were scrunched up in disbelief and confusion, and she was staring blankly at the carpeted floor.

"No, you're not." Farkle furrowed his brow. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, you needed to tell me that and I needed to hear it." Riley turned her head and rested it on his shoulder. Her mind was admittedly whirling however. For most of her life she had believed that all life would offer her would be good things, for the most part at least, but definitely things she agreed with. Riley had somehow gotten it into her head that she was to inherit the fairy tale ending her mother and father had acquired, and that everyone would actually bend their worlds around hers.

Laden with guilt, she swallowed hard. She was so incredibly selfish and immature. That was probably why Lucas didn't like her back, although she didn't blame him. Or did she not actually him? Ugh, thanks Farkle, she thought. Then Riley began to subconsciously break it down. Lucas liked Maya, Maya liked Lucas, thus they were directly related or linked. Lucas was great, her first crush, her first kiss, her first date...but—maybe Farkle was right. It was time to let go, perhaps and move on. But, it was going to be hard to just automatically remove years worth of feelings. Or according to her friend sitting next to her, she had already been absentmindedly doing just that.

"You're being very mature about all this," the boy interrupted her musings, causing her to smile as she had just been putting herself down for lacking that specific attribute.

She gave him a short laugh. "Thanks, Farkle."

They sat in silence briefly, before she shifted her gaze to his face. "So, what do we do now?"

"Give Charlie Gardner a chance," he offered gingerly.

Riley sighed. "Okay, I'll give other boys a chance. I haven't been very fair to Charlie, have I?" She played with her ring and tried to replace the image in her mind of Lucas with Charlie.

"No," Farkle admitted. "But I'm glad this was so easy."

Riley snorted, which luckily he did not catch, but then decided to further explain her feelings to her friend. "Actually, I was just writing about Lucas," she said, lifting her head and straining to snatch the book up. "I was writing about how much I like him. How much we're alike." Farkle cocked his head and allowed her to talk patiently. "But, all it took was you to get me to see where I was wrong. Why was it so easy to convince me Farkle? You've been here for like 5 minutes."

He laughed. "Either you were already there and you just needed to realize it, or your mind was elsewhere and you just got the wrong person mixed up in that brain of yours."

"You mean I was thinking of someone else besides Lucas when I was writing about Lucas?" Riley looked unconvinced, knowing that she was quite aware of how she felt. Usually. Right now, Farkle was mixing her up a little.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Weird phenomenon, huh?"

"No, kidding," she mumbled, first staring at the jumbled mess of handwriting before her, then at Farkle who smiled sympathetically.

"Thanks for listening," he said, but she wasn't really paying attention anymore. She just missed Maya, who was her clarity in the mix of all her confusion. Now, without her, Riley just felt so jumbled and shook with this new development in her normally calm world. Maya come back, Riley thought. I need you.

"What did you do, Lucas?"

They both jumped a little and turned to look at Mrs. Friar, who had her hands on her hips and a small smile on her face. They were currently lounging on the couch—well Lucas was—Maya was glaring at former said boy with a abnormally straight spine and pale face.

He relaxed. "Nothing, Maya here is a little afraid of horror movies."

"I'm not," she protested, shaking her head.

"Says the scream you just let out." He looked pointedly at her.

"It just jumped out!" The blonde defended.

Mrs. Friar laughed and set her purse on the counter. Inspecting the kitchen swiftly, she grinned down at the small girl.

"Well, I see you managed to keep our home intact. I'm assuming you made the popcorn?"

She scowled, and Lucas laughed as she unsuccessfully attempted to hide the bowl under a blanket.

"Yes," she muttered.

"Did you two get any homework done?"

"Yes, mama," Lucas said, and now it was Maya's turn to smirk in the background.

"Well." His mother began to put things away. "It's really nice to see you again, sweetheart. It's been awhile."

"Really? When was the last time I was here?"

"Uh, last month I think."

"That's not that long." Lucas chuckled.

"It probably doesn't feel that long because you two are always hanging out, I suppose," Mrs. Friar mused.

"Well, we have a tight group," Maya agreed.

"Yeah, Lucas talks about you guys a lot."

The blonde turned to the boy with a smug grin.

"Aw, that's so sweet Huckleberry."

The older woman pursed her lips, a knowing twinkle in her eyes. "You know, he talks about you—"

"And we're done," Lucas said quickly, getting up to help his mother load the dishwasher.

Maya wasn't sure what had just happened, but she attributed it to Lucas's odd Texas heritage. Whatever odd things he did was all his Cowboy family's fault. Or his own. Why did she like him again?

"So, Maya." Mrs. Friar put a handful of forks into the dishwasher. "How's your art going?"

"You remembered?" She asked surprised, getting up to help the two.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" The woman seemed puzzled.

The blonde reached into the sink and rinsed off a plate before stacking it in alongside the others. It was a mutual agreement in the house that whenever she came over, she'd help out. She didn't mind though and Mrs. Friar appreciated it.

"I don't know." Maya shrugged. "But, I guess it's good."

Lucas gave her a pointed look and she glared at him warningly.

"Do you think you'll apply to any art colleges?"

"I don't even want to think about college." She groaned, and the other two chuckled. "I can barely paint a picture of a cat at the moment."

Mrs. Friar looked puzzled and Lucas twisted his lip as he decided how to venture into that conversation.

"Well, you did decorate my face the other day," Lucas reminded, and ran a hand through his hair anxiously. probably not realizing he left a trail of bubbles as he did so.

"What?" His mother raised an eyebrow.

"We were playing a game and she tattooed my face with marker," Lucas explained with a small smile. "But, I guess Maya is just having some trouble with art lately."

The blonde in question huffed. "Yeah, just a little bit."

"Oh, come on. You said it was getting better, didn't you?"

Maya slammed a plate a little too hard into the dishwasher and then crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes, but it's not good enough."

Lucas scowled. "Stop putting yourself down—"

His mother interrupted with a pat on the shoulder and a gesture to get out.

"Honey, you're not helping here. Can you finish cleaning up the living room, please?"

Lucas sighed. "Yeah."

After he left with a backward glance at Maya, Mrs. Friar went back to the dishwasher.

"I'm sorry about that."

"It's okay, he does that a lot."

"Excuse me?"

"It's okay, Mrs. Friar. He's just looking out for his friends, I guess."

"I guess?"

The blonde let a small laugh escape. "Yeah, I'm not really sure how I feel about the persistence, but I appreciate it. Sometimes."

"Well, if he ever bothers you, feel free to tell me. I can put him in the shed, you know." The older woman smiled warmly and handed her a bowl.

Maya put it in and looked up at her strangely. "Thanks," she said slowly.

She changed the subject. "I don't know much about your life sweetie, or what's up with your art, but I would just encourage you to keep trying."

"I know. I am."

"Do you think you could tell me a little bit about what's going on?"

"I don't know, I'm just so confused and I guess my body is picking up on my brain's distress so much that it refuses to function the way I want it too." She snorts.

Maya closed the door and switched the dishwasher on, as Mrs. Friar wiped her hands on a towel.

"Well, my advice for you would be to just allow yourself to open up and express who you are as individual without concern or worries. If art is your outlet, let it be just that. Utilize it so that you can free up your mind."

"Easier said then done, I guess." Maya swallowed.

They stood in an awkward silence, the hum of the dishwasher slightly comforting as it created a cozy atmosphere in the homey kitchen.

Mrs. Friar cleared her throat and Maya lifted her head to meet her eyes. "You know he cares about you right?" She grew serious. "Whatever you feel, and whatever is going through your head, might need some reconsideration."

"Not to be rude, Mrs. Friar, but how could you possibly know what I'm thinking?" Maya asked, pursing her lips at the statement and the touchy change in subject.

"I've found that I'm pretty good at reading people, honey. And I can't pretend to know what's going on, but something's wrong and all I can tell you is don't push away your friends. If you're going through something, this could possibly be the most important time that they could be there for you. Don't lose them."

Maya sighed and bit her lip. Wasn't that great? Somebody else who thought they knew everything about her. That wasn't to say she didn't like Mrs. Friar and she knew her pretty well, but people liked to assume. It was just human nature and she wasn't calling herself innocent either, but it sure wasn't helpful. "Thanks, Mrs. Friar," she decided on saying.

You're welcome, Maya." And with a big grin, she whispered into her ear. "Don't push him away either, okay? I think he needs you just as much as you need him." Maya politely pulled away. What was that supposed to mean?