Chapter 3: First Of All, You Don't Know Me

Riley

I stared at the blank word document on my computer screen and the cursor blinked back at me as if it were mocking my inability to come up with a single paragraph of literary genius. All I could think about was Lucas Friar in my mother's bakery. He had this way of consuming the entire room wherever he went. Now that I knew he had been coming into the bakery after lacrosse practice, all I would be able to see or think or feel when I walked into the room would be him. I took a breath and started to type.

The stranger lurked somewhere between where the building cast its shadows and the edge of the water. His face was covered, as if showing it to the unfortunate fool nearby would…

I rolled my eyes and deleted everything I had just written. I had nothing important to say. I had no original thoughts. I had nothing to offer this writing program that NYU was conducting this summer and I didn't deserve to go. The authors that I loved, the ones who have had the biggest impact on my life, were ones who had gone through unimaginable hardships. Who have seen and done things that have changed who they were for better or worse. I haven't see or done anything. Period. So how could I write anything that would mean something to someone?

My phone buzzed next to me and I quickly grabbed it, thankful for the distraction.

"Hello?" I said into the phone.

"Riles, can you believe Lucas agreed to do the interview? This issue is going to be the best one we've ever published," Maya screeched into the phone.

Maya Hart had burst into the computer lab after my tutoring session with Lucas. We were meeting there to work on the newspaper, but she had been late, which was very out of character for her.

"LUCAS FRIAR IS DOING THE INTERVIEW!" Maya yelled as she pushed through the double doors of the computer lab.

Every single person in the room turned to look at her and my heart stopped at the sound of his name. This meant I would be able to spend more time with him. But it also meant he would start to realize that I was not always the girl he was used to in our tutoring sessions… And maybe that was a good thing.

"Yeah it's… Pretty unbelievable," I told Maya. I moved from where I was sitting at my desk, to the bench of the bay window at the other side of my room, and stared out at the busy street.

"So we want to know what the team is doing to prepare for the championships coming up right? How is Lucas, as the team captain, giving his team the confidence to perform well?" Maya asked, going over her agenda for the upcoming interview.

Those questions seemed like the standard ones you would ask Mr. Popular, Pretty Boy, the 'I-Have-Nothing-Better-To-Do-But-Talk-About-Lacrosse' Team Captain. But what I saw from Lucas today… I was starting to get the idea that he wasn't any of those.

"Yeah, but… Maybe ask him more about himself? Does he have a favorite song he listens to before a game? A favorite quote that inspires him?" I suggested, knowing in the back of my mind that this was obviously not what we needed to write about in this issue.

"Riley, we want to know about the team, right? Not just about Lucas Friar," Maya told me, but I didn't say anything back. "Look, I'll throw some of those questions in there just for you, okay? 'Do you channel your inner Popeye and eat spinach to give you strong muscles before a game?' Stuff like that."

I smiled. This was why Maya was one of my best friends. She knew exactly how to make me laugh.

"Thanks," I giggled. "So, this writing contest. Do you have anything written yet? Farkle is one step away from contacting Simon and Schuster to get his published already."

"I have some ideas, but no, I'm not anywhere near Farkle status," Maya reassured me.

"Good. Man, I was starting to think I was falling behind. I can't focus lately. It's like I can't write a single word that means anything to me," I admitted, absentmindedly picking at a piece of thread on one of my throw pillows.

"You have been pretty distracted lately. What's going on?" Maya inquired. I wanted to tell her about Lucas, but I honestly didn't know what to say. There was nothing really to tell… But then again… There was something.

"I don't really know. I just…" Just then my phone buzzed and I removed it from my ear to glance down at the screen. It was a text message from a number I didn't recognize.

"Maya, I have to go. Call you back later," I told her and hung up.

I clicked on the message and quickly read it.

I'm on page 66. What does Riley Matthews want me to think about?

I smiled wider than I had in a really long time. How did he get my number?

No hints. Keep reading. It'll come to you. I replied.

My heart was beating loudly in my chest. It filled my ears, like a single solitary drumbeat in an otherwise silent concert hall.

You're so cruel ;) … So this interview tomorrow. No chance you're the one giving it is there?

Whoa. He wants me to be the one to interview him?

Sorry, gave that job to Maya. She's really awesome though. She'll go easy on you.

My mom popped her head in, but I shooed her out and quickly told her that I'd explain later.

Yeah, but you wouldn't. Maybe that's what I need.

I stared at my phone, thinking hard about how to respond to that. Maybe that's what I need. What did he want from me?

I'll see you tomorrow. Keep reading.

I set my phone on my bed and walked back over to my desk. I might not have had anything to write about just yet, but I had a feeling that inspiration would find me in the most unexpected of ways pretty soon. The only thing I was worried about was if that inspiration would be for better or worse.

–

There was something comforting to me about sitting next to a stranger on the subway. I didn't know them. They didn't know me. I could sit there with my headphones on, my music pouring into my ears and filling my head with beautiful melodies, and I would feel no pressure to say anything or do anything or be anything. I could just sit there, pretending to be whoever I wanted, and no one would know the truth. Today the song was Anonymous Club by Courtney Barnett. How fitting.

I was on my way to school, but there was a part of me that wanted to miss my stop. To keep going until I couldn't go anymore. But instead, when the subway stopped, so did I. I grabbed my backpack and waited for the strangers in front of me to shuffle off to their busy, anonymous lives, until I hopped off and did the exact same thing.

I walked down the block to the entrance of my high school. Students were sitting on the brick wall that lined the front of the building, others were sitting in the small patch of grass outside of the gym. They looked so happy living their lives and being exactly who they were meant to be. Must have been nice.

"Let's start an anonymous club, we can sit alone in the dark…" The lyrics poured through my headphones and I closed my eyes. "Leave your shoes at the door, along with your troubles, your troubles, your troub-"

I jumped about a foot in the air as someone grabbed my shoulder. I spun around and swiftly kicked whoever it was in the shins.

"OW!"

I ripped my headphones out of my ears and watched as Lucas grabbed at his legs in pain.

"Oh my God! I'm SO sorry!" I apologized, rushing over to him and placing my hand on his shoulder.

"Jeez, that must have been one heck of a song," Lucas winced.

"Sorry, I sometimes get… lost whenever I'm listening to a song that means a lot to me. I forget that the rest of the world exists I guess," I explained, hoping I didn't sound like a complete lunatic. Oh god. What if I kicked him so hard he couldn't play lacrosse anymore? Way to go Riley.

Lucas looked up at me then and a knowing look flashed across his face that made me realize that he understood. He knew exactly what I was talking about because he felt the same way.

"No, I… I know what you mean. It's okay," he reassured me. He was no longer doubled over, and he was almost standing up straight, but I could still tell he was in pain.

"Are you okay? Do you need ice? Did I ruin your lacrosse career? Oh god, the whole school is going to kill me. Maya is going to kill me! She's like your biggest fan. Wait, don't tell her I said that!" I sputtered out quickly.

Lucas laughed, his eyes lighting up and the pained look he had on his face only moments ago had completely disappeared.

"Why are you laughing? I just ninja kicked your shins! You need those to be team captain!" I exclaimed dramatically.

"Riley, I'm fine. Besides, it wouldn't be the end of the world if…" Lucas began, but trailed off.

"If… what?" I pressed, genuinely curious about what he was going to say.

"Nothing. Doesn't matter. So, you didn't tell me you were the editor of the school newspaper."

"You didn't ask. Plus, that's not something I usually go around telling people," I admitted, adjusting my backpack and taking a few steps towards the school.

"Why not? I think it's awesome." Lucas looked me straight in the eyes when he said this. No smile, no awkward giggle. He was serious.

"Please, Lucas Friar thinks being the editor of the school newspaper is cool. Yeah, that'll be the day," I scoffed. Ouch.

All humor was gone from his expression. He was no longer playful, no longer admiring. Now he was simply just… Hurt.

"Riley… I like having you as my tutor, I like hanging out with you, I like being your friend. But until you really know me, don't make assumptions about me. Especially ones that are just… Wrong. That's not fair," Lucas reminded me. I blinked back tears and tried to hide my unbelievable embarrassment.

"You're right. I- I'm sorry. I guess it's easy to think you know a person when they're thrown into the spotlight as much as you are," I admitted, feeling even worse than I did before.

"Yeah, well the spotlight is overrated," Lucas muttered, looking in the direction of where his friends were standing by the brick wall. "And so am I."

He started to walk off, but then stopped to turn back to me. His smile had finally returned, and his eyes had gone soft once again.

"I'll see you after school," Lucas called back to me as he turned to walk towards his friends.

The saddest part of all of this was that I knew that Lucas wouldn't have thought that being the editor of the school newspaper was lame. I knew that he would have found it different and interesting and completely unlike something any of his friends would do. But that made it worse somehow. I didn't want to be his unique safehaven from his life of routine sameness. I just wanted him to want to hang out with me because I was me, not because I was different than what he was used to. I took a deep breath, put my headphones back on, and let the music take me far away from where I was, just like I would have done if I never had gotten off the subway.