game on | lucaya

t w e n t y

Distracting myself, I scroll through the comments. Wow, some of them are harsh. I make a mental note to add them into the list of possible future comebacks.

At that moment, Lucas walks in. I raise a hand to wave at him but all he does is give me a cold stare. Wow, who shat in his cereal this morning? Suddenly, Lucas is forcefully pushed forward from somebody behind him in the doorway.

"Yeah, I do have a girlfriend, like I've mentioned the previous ten thousand times. Please stop asking me questions, especially if it's the same one over and over again," a familiar voice grumbles as a tall figure with ruffled brown hair stumbles into Lucas from behind. "If you'll please excuse me, I have to go and see my girlfriend now."

"Malcolm!" I grin at him, ignoring the rising number of eyes trained on us.

"Hey babe," he smirks, throwing an arm around me. I feel the temperature in my cheeks rise, it's the first time anybody has called me babe seriously.

"So, I'll pick you up at 7?" he winks.

"Sure," I can't help but laugh at him, what a dork.

My line of sight subconsciously wanders to where Lucas is standing and I see his steely cold eyes trained on us, his face twisted into a grimace, his hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles are turning white. He doesn't look too good, I wonder what's up with him these days.

"Okay, break it up there, lovebirds, Mr Matthews is coming," Farkle pushes the two of us apart just as Mr Matthews walks in.

_____

"Oh my God, we have to get you ready quickly," Riley forces me into my room impatiently. "Why'd you only let me in at 6.30?"

"I was sleeping," I yawn, to which Riley shakes her head disapprovingly and turns backroad my closet to find a decent outfit for me.

"Where are you two going?" she asks, throwing a few of my clothes on the bed.

"He says it's a surprise," I answer, shrugging.

"If it's Malcolm Bradford, you two are probably going for a romantic dinner date at the fanciest restaurant in town," she muses and holds up a dress that I didn't know I owned. A silky white halter dress that blends into teal near the bottom. When the hell did I get that? Actually, that doesn't matter because it's beautiful.

Riley stuffs me into the dress and straightens my hair, dabbing light makeup on my face.

"Voilà!" she shoves me in front of my mirror eagerly. I gape in surprise at how she managed to transform me into a different person entirely in just 30 minutes. Turning around to hug her, I thank her, grinning.

"Okay, hurry up, Maya, he's been waiting for really long," Riley suddenly says, pushing me towards my front door.

"What? Who?" I ask, confused.

"Who else? He's been here since before I came! How else would I know that you'd be going on for a fancy dinner?" Riley winks at me before opening the door and forcing me out.

I stumble into somebody's hard chest and lose my balance, falling over. "You really do love stumbling into me, don't you, babe?" he says as he grabs hold of me just in time.

Quickly, I stand up, dusting myself off, my cheeks burning red. I look up and see Malcolm in a sharp black suit, his chestnut hair tousled. I feel underdressed.

"Sorry about that, Malcolm."

He laughs. "There's no need to apologise, and you don't have to be so formal with me, Maya."

I think about it for a while. "Then I'll call you Mal. You can't let anybody else call you that."

Nodding, he grabs my hand in his. "Sure, babe. You look beautiful by the way."

"Th-thank you, you look beautiful too," I stutter, flustered.

"Thanks, I know," he smirks.

It takes me a while to realise what I've just said.

When we reach the restaurant, my mouth hangs agape in shock and awe at the extravagant and elegant restaurant we are standing in front of. I feel like a month of my allowance wouldn't be enough for a dish at this place.

I tug at Malcolm's sleeve. "Mal, are you sure you want to eat here? It looks really expensive."

"Don't worry, I'm paying," he smiles and leads me to the restaurant.

"Mr Bradford, we've reserved our best spot for you," says one of the waiters in a French accent and he brings us to a small round table covered in a pristine white cloth, handing the both of us a menu each.

A candlelit dinner on our first date? I'd always thought that my first date would be to the movies or ice skating rink or something, this is just... wow. My fingers flip through the pages of the menu and I find that everything is counted in tens or even hundreds of dollars. I mean, I could totally settle for a $3 juice box, but maybe a $300 bottle of wine would be better. In the end, I pick the cheapest dish: the steak, not even daring to continue going through the menu, unable to imagine how high the prices can go if their cheapest option is wine-soaked steak made with premium beef.

"Are you picking that because it's the cheapest dish?" Malcolm grins. "C'mon Maya, I told you I'm paying."

"What are you saying? I love steak!" I answer enthusiastically, closing my menu and laying it on the table. It is true, I do love me some steak.

But I feel so out of place and foreign in this restaurant. People with long flowy dresses and long flowy hair, clinking their wine glasses and clicking their heels, then there's me who, for some unfortunate reason, has the urge to go to the toilet now.

"I have to use the little girls' room," I excuse myself as I slip away, a hand clutching my stomach. I know what that rumble from the pit of my stomach means - it means business, big business.

Unfortunately, as I try to gracefully walk to the bathroom, the heels that Riley lent me decides to get caught on the floor. The goddamn floor. And I fall, or as I like to say it, descend in a less ladylike fashion. Why the heck do I keep falling?

That's when somebody grabs my hand.

_____

a/n:

i haven't updated in a really long time sorry guys :-(
do you ship malcolm x maya? mayalcolm? maycolm?
also, who's the mystery person that grabs her hand? malcolm? lucas?? or dare i say, a new character?