forever!

Lucas plays, of course, and Maya’s never really grown out of messing with him, so she’d stolen the ball one day, not for any reason other than to be a nuisance. Lucas had chased after her, because he’s never really grown out of falling for Maya’s nonsense. She’d laughed and sprinted away, dodging around his outstretched arms and jokingly taking a shot, because watching Lucas run after the wayward ball is still funny, even after all this time.

When she’d gotten nothing but net, even Lucas had to stop and stare.

So, nowadays, group outings sometimes become sitting around the outdoor court as Maya and Lucas play a game of one-on-one.

Riley’s parked herself on one of the many swathes of grass surrounding the concrete, watching as Maya darts past Lucas, steals the ball from him, then sinks a perfect three-pointer.

“You’ve got a type, huh?” Next to her, Farkle is wearing one of his trademark grins, the one that graces his face whenever he thinks he knows something that everyone else doesn’t. It’s a common occurrence.

“Hm?” Riley’s slightly distracted, but she really can’t be blamed for that. Maya has a habit of pulling her shirt up to wipe sweat off her face, and she’s doing it right now. “What?”

Farkle’s grin is now a smirk. “You like them smoking hot and good at basketball.”

At that, Riley tears her eyes away from her girlfriend’s abs just so she can roll them at him.

“Haha, very funny.”

“I’m not joking!”

“Neither am I.” Riley uncrosses her legs, stretching them out in front of her as she leans back on her elbows. “I don’t think I ever properly liked Lucas, I just didn’t know that I could like Maya.”

Farkle nods. “And that’s why you broke up.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“There wasn’t really any particular reason for it, I think I just realised that being with him didn’t make me feel half the things I feel when I’m with Maya.” Riley tilts her head back to face the sky. “Turns out, you’re not supposed to want dates with your boyfriend to end just so you can go home and spoon your best friend to sleep.” She turns to meet Farkle’s eyes. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Farkle laughs, not bitter at all. “Thanks,” he says, before falling silent. They sit there for a while, watching as Maya and Lucas steal the ball from each other, before he speaks up again. “Hey, remember when you blew up at that girl? Poor thing just wanted Maya’s number.”

Riley eases off her elbows, falling down into the grass. “Poor thing wanted Maya’s number real bad,” she says, through her teeth.

—

Charlie Gardner hosts a Halloween party every year. No one knows where his parents are during this time, or whether hosting parties is something he’s even allowed to do. People show up anyway, because parents and rules don’t matter on Halloween, and Charlie always has pizza and booze.

Maya doesn’t like crowds, or loud music, so she usually makes herself at home in the kitchen, waiting for Riley to be done socialising. It’s quieter in there, mostly because all the pizza and booze is in the living room, so no one ever needs to go anywhere else.

The situation only becomes a situation because, for all her bravado, Maya isn’t actually very good at being mean to people who are being nice to her. Riley returns from executing a truly godawful dance routine with Zay to find her girlfriend at the kitchen island, very studiously staring into her glass of iced tea as another girl leans in close.

Now, Riley isn’t really an angry sort of person, not by any stretch of the imagination, but she’s had one or two, maybe three, cups of that heinous spiked punch Charlie makes that could possibly classify as an illegal substance, so she’s not fully in control of all her facilities when Kill Bill sirens start to go off in her brain.

The next minute or so is a red-hot blur, and Riley returns to her body just in time to catch the tail-end of a sentence that, it turns out, is coming from her own mouth.

“-and walk away, goodbye!”

“Hmm,” the girl says, because she’s a glutton for punishment, “I don’t think so. And what are you, her keeper? She didn’t say no.”

Riley turns to Maya, who meets her glare with a steady don’t-even-try-it sort of look that is both chastising and amused all at once. It mellows Riley out almost immediately, though not enough that she isn’t still slightly seething.

Maya gifts Riley with one of her funny little grins, and this time Riley does melt, before swivelling back around. “I did say no,” she intones sternly. “More than once, actually. I even told you that my girlfriend probably wouldn’t appreciate you standing so close.”

The girl scoffs, tossing her hair back. Riley, still in her drunken haze, is overcome with the sudden, inconsolable desire to cut it all off.

“People say that all the time, they’re just playing hard-to-get.”

The sirens are back, but this time Riley stays firmly in the driver’s seat of her own mind. "Well,” she says, “Maya’s impossible to get, because she’s taken, by me.” Then, just to drive the point home, adds, “Goodbye.”

Presumably sensing that she’s lost this one, the girl tosses her hair over the other shoulder, leaves the kitchen, and melts back into the party.

“So,” Maya says, “you do get jealous.” She’s grinning, blue eyes warm and bright in the low kitchen light. Riley almost leaves her body again. “I was beginning to think it would never happen, you weren’t like this with Lucas.”

"I wasn’t afraid of losing him.” Riley’s answer comes so quickly, so unbidden, that she has to pause and recollect her thoughts. “I mean, I guess I always just thought that if he found someone else, and being with them made him happy, then I would let him go.” Just another entry on the long laundry list of reasons why Riley really should’ve known that Lucas was never going to be the one for her.

Maya hums in acknowledgement, but doesn’t say anything in reply. Instead, she reaches out, pulls Riley into a loose hug. Riley goes willingly, because if Maya is leading she would leap off a cliff with both eyes closed.

“I’m terrified of losing you,” Riley says, not because the alcohol has shattered what’s left of her inhibitions, but because Maya always has a way of bringing the truth out of her. “It would break my heart, I think. But, if you found someone else, and being with them made you happy, I would let you go too.”

“The princess’ noble sacrifice is very much appreciated,” Maya drawls, in that slow, happy way, “but I’m afraid it isn’t needed.” She tugs Riley closer, presses a kiss into the space where her jaw meets her neck. Riley’s pretty sure that Maya can hear the way her heartbeat has almost doubled, but can’t seem to muster up the energy required to feel embarrassed about it. “I’m holding on much too tight for you to ever let go.”

—

“It’s my favourite story.” Farkle’s voice shakes Riley out of her memories. “Maya tells it so well.”

Maya also really likes to exaggerate, so the tale’s become somewhat tall, which is probably why Farkle likes it so much. Riley’s almost certain that she hadn’t told the girl to fuck off, but it’s always been more Maya’s story than hers, and she’s not about to start making corrections now.

The sound of a basketball dropping to the grass has them both turning, and Farkle stands to meet his boyfriend. Lucas has his shirt off, so Riley writes them both off as a lost cause for at least the next fifteen minutes.

Maya follows close behind, wiping sweat out of her eyes. “Riley,” she says, and the lilt of her voice could make angels cry, because Maya doesn’t ever call Riley by her real, actual name anymore. It’s always Riles, or honey, or the seldom used but ever anticipated baby that never fails to turn all of Riley’s bones to jelly. “Can you pass me my Gatorade?”

Riley hands the bottle over, and Maya chugs half of it before collapsing onto the grass with an almighty sigh, all sun-bright and heavy-limbed, the most beautiful girl Riley has ever had the privilege of looking at.

“You okay?” Maya asks, after a few moments of silence. "What’s up?”

“Yeah. Nothing.” Riley grins, unable to help herself around Maya, as always. “I love you.”

Maya, alight with happiness, grins back. “That’s not nothing,” she says. “You love me. That’s everything.”