They stayed up talking half the night, talking about their middle school and high school years. Those years seemed really far away now, and really impersonal. Almost like they hadn't lived them, and they were talking about characters that they had never met in a television show that they'd only watched a few episodes of.
Lucas's whole body felt lighter. She had kissed him. She loved him, obviously. Everything was going to be okay now. He could get her through anything, as long as they were together.
Poor, stupid, Lucas.
Maya wasn't stupid. She knew that he was thinking all this. She knew that she had just built the whole world for him, just as surely as she had felt her whole world crumble. In the pauses in their conversation, she planned to get control back. She could still turn it back around. But she only thought about this during the pauses.
When they were talking, when she could feel his voice vibrating and feel his heart beating, she thought that she had never thought anything could feel like this. Especially after the way she had felt the night Katy died. How was it possible to feel so good, so soon? It was disrespectful. But her mom already felt like a memory as distant as her middle school years.
Just like she and Lucas would be, sooner than she thought possible.
She fell asleep, her head still jumping back and forth from the sky to the ground.
Lucas didn't move the rest of the night. His back started to hurt from leaning against the door, and his arms ached from holding her in the same position for so long. His legs went numb. Nobody cared. Least of all him.
Morning came, and Maya started to stir. He kissed her on the side of her head, rocking her back and forth until she woke up fully. She looked up at him, with such complete trust that he was suddenly struck by the immense responsibility he had taken on in loving her. He wasn't scared by it. He simply noted that it was immense.
"Good morning," he said.
"Good morning," she said.
He helped her up off the ground, trying to disguise the fact that practically every limb he owned had fallen asleep and was now set on fire. He almost fell twice, and Maya had to steady him. "Everything okay?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, smiling.
She hugged him. "Thank you."
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
He couldn't see her blinking, like she was going to hold back tears.
He couldn't hear that what she was really saying was goodbye.
"I'm going to go brush my teeth," he said. "I'll be back in a little bit."
She nodded, and he left.
Both of his parents were waiting for him right outside the door. He closed it quickly, so she wouldn't see them. His mother managed to look brokenhearted and angry at the same time, and still look like the quintessential southern belle. Mr. Friar just looked angry. He jerked his head toward the right. Downstairs, son.