a/n: timezones are absolutely ridiculous but right now in australia, it's currently the 20th of april, meaning that sixteen years ago, your sarcastic, angsty, bitter lil bundle of joy was born. aka me. yay !!
i just wanted to update so i could send love and joy to everyone and give yous some of that birthday spirit we all need. i love you.
by the way, this is a horrible chapter but i wrote it in like two hours and i am terribly sleepy so i apologise in advanced.
. . .
lucas friar
Dating Maya had somehow turned into a routine.
Pick her up outside of her house in the morning, drive her to school, walk her to class, sit with her at lunch and drop her home after school. Every single day.
And wasn't I supposed to enjoy routines? Didn't I like everything to be neat and in order and to have my life perfectly scheduled? I was Lucas Friar, the boy who despised change. The boy who liked to plan every part of his day and maintain that exact plan to ensure that nothing could ever go wrong in his life. So why the hell didn't I like this?
I was changing so goddamn much I had almost become unaware of the person I was now. Was I seriously going through an identity crisis in my freaking high school years, the time when you were practically forced to conform into the identities everyone wanted you to be? I wasn't a jock, or a nerd, or a theatre kid, or any other stereotype that defied individualism. I wasn't anybody. I had no identity. No label. The only thing I could have potentially been recognised with was for being Maya's boyfriend.
But even then, I wasn't too sure of that.
If being Maya's boyfriend meant silent car rides, silent walks and silent lunch times together then I would've worn that boyfriend label proudly. But it clearly wasn't the case. I could've blamed it on the fact that I was an extremely awkward person but even then, I still would've been able to blurt out at least something. I still would've been able to have some sort of a conversation with her, and whether or not it may have been a fully functioning one, we may never know.
The relationship just didn't feel right. Sure, my heart always fluttered immensely when she walked into a room, and I could never wipe a smile off my face when she would suddenly enter my thoughts. Even when she held my hand or grasped my waist I could feel my breath hitching in my throat. But they were all emotions caused by physical interaction. And I was beginning to wonder if that's what it was all along. Just a physical attraction.
I shook my head vigorously, denying the thought almost immediately once it entered my mind. It was absolutely ridiculous, I mean, we were childhood best friends. That should've meant something. I simply don't believe in coincidences. A coincidence is just the universe's way of saying hello, and here I was, finally greeting it back only to have it not respond.
I looked up at the clock fastened to the wall, eyeing the hand as it struck another minute. Class had just barely begun and I was already so goddamn eager to get out. Suddenly, Ms Blanchard strutted in, catching the attention of every student as they took to their seats. It wasn't as if she was frightening, though everyone knew never to cross her. She was somewhat of a fierce, hardcore feminist that could probably burn each and every one of us if she had the chance.
"Okay, so continuing on from last lesson with the novel The Great Gatsby, we're going to have an open class discussion about the love that Gatsby has for Daisy, and whether or not it's real or if he has just conjured an unrealistic fantasy. Would anybody like to begin?"
Before I had time to process any information, Riley immediately shot up her hand, glancing around the classroom before answering, "I think Gatsby doesn't love Daisy. Rather, he loves the idea of her. Of course, who wouldn't. She's the epitome of beauty," she quietly mumbled, looking down at her intertwined fingers.
"Would you care to elaborate, Riley?"
She sighed almost inaudibly under her breath. "I just think he has all these high expectations for her to be this perfect girl that he knew from a long time ago but she's obviously changed so much and she simply can't fulfil what he wants her to be. Their relationship can't be restored to what it was in the past and Gatsby is too oblivious to that fact."
Hm, well this seems vaguely familiar.
Ms Blanchard nodded slightly, narrowing her eyes as she appeared to be deep in thought. "So you're saying that Gatsby is in love with the romantic past he had with Daisy, rather than Daisy herself? This would also explain why he's so eager to repeat the past, because he craves the idea of happiness that can only be achieved through Daisy," Ms Blanchard added, flashing Riley a small smirk.
Great, first Mr Matthews and now Ms Blanchard. It was already enough that our history classes would always somehow correlate with our emotions and feelings, and I certainly didn't need another class like that. Perhaps I was just overthinking things. I tended to do that quite a bit, anyway. Perhaps this really was just about Gatsby and Daisy.
"How about you, Mr Friar? Do you have anything to say that can contribute to our discussion? Perhaps you can give us a reason as to why Gatsby's love for Daisy is real. It is important to see things from both sides of the argument, and I would love to see a small debate between you and Miss Matthews."
Wonderful. That was the last thing I needed right now. To get into another heated argument with Riley Matthews. I might as well have jumped off a cliff. The pain would've probably been much more bearable.
Riley swivelled her body around in her seat, irritatingly glancing over at me not-so-subtly before turning back around to face the front. So clearly she wasn't exactly made up of sunshines and lollipops like I had initially thought. Though, that notion was completely thrown out the window once Riley had yelled at me anyway.
I had to admit. It hurt. She was angry at me and I had only been fuelling that hatred through my stupid remarks. I missed talking to her and laughing with her and just being with her. I missed her, the way a friend missed a friend.
She hadn't even allowed me to apologise. No amount of text messages, phone calls or loud knocks on her bedroom window was enough. She had completely shut me out. If she had done that a few months ago, I would've been overjoyed, but now it just felt as if there was this constant emptiness inside. Sure, I had actually gotten what I wanted all along. I had Maya, despite how possessive that sounded.
But that didn't mean I wanted to lose a friendship with Riley.
"I'm sorry but I'm going to have to agree with Riley. She made some good points about Gatsby being in love with the idea of Daisy, but not actually Daisy herself," I responded. Riley immediately spun her head around in surprise, her eyes widening slightly. I stared back at her, continuing, "But I mean we have to give some sympathy for the guy. Daisy is all he's ever known. Perhaps he's scared to move on because his past with her is the only past he is familiar with."
I could've sworn her lips tilted just the slightest bit before she spun her head back around to the front. "Well, maybe if Gatsby wasn't so hung up on Daisy, he could've found happiness with someone else," she playfully suggested, shrugging her shoulders as she fidgeted with her intertwined fingers on the table.
I laughed. "Yeah, maybe."
. . .
"Hey, stranger."
Okay, I had just made a bold move. A bold move that consisted of running behind Riley after class, catching up to her in the hallways and grabbing her by the arm only to have her turn around and glare at me once those two words left my mouth.
Clearly our small classroom interaction didn't solve things after all.
She crossed her arms, leaning slightly on her leg as she huffed loudly, annoyance fuming from her ears. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Riley, I know I'm absolutely terrible at apologising─"
"Well that's an understatement," she sharply interjected, rolling her eyes.
"I'm an asshole, I get it─"
"Again, another understatement," she sarcastically remarked, laughing humorlessly as she uncrossed her arms. Clearly she was getting impatient with me, but I was getting rather impatient with her, too.
I sighed deeply, acting on impulse as I grabbed her arm and pulled her into the now vacant english classroom. She didn't seem to object in any sort of way, though immediately shook off my grip once we had entered the classroom.
She opened her mouth to talk, but I quickly interrupted as I hastily uttered, "I'm sorry, okay? I really didn't mean to hurt you, and I feel terrible for doing it ... and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being a horrible friend, sunshine. I just want to be good enough and I--"
She sighed loudly, her features suddenly softening as she flashed me a calming smile. "Friends get into fights all the time. Maybe I shouldn't have said what I did. I'm sorry, too. I'm working on it, I really am," she said.
"Hey, no, there's nothing that you need to apologise for, and there's certainly nothing you need to work on. You're absolutely perfect just the way you are," I assured her.
Her grin widened even further, her soft brown orbs staring straight into mine as I stared back. This moment, although purely platonic, seemed otherwise. And perhaps I was to blame for that. Stupid me, you don't call your girlfriend's best friend perfect. But the words rolled so effortlessly off my tongue I had no time to think. I tended to be very impulsive when it came to Riley Matthews.
"Also, just so you know, you're great at apologies," she quietly murmured, her hand subtly reaching up to fix the collar of my black jacket. I looked down, trying hard to ignore the fact that my heart was thudding erratically in my chest. If we were any more quieter, she could have probably heard the sound of my heart slamming against my chest.
I smiled sheepishly as I glanced over at her, her big, sparkling brown eyes luring me into the depths of her heart. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul and I wondered if her soul was as beautiful as her eyes.
When I looked at Riley, I no longer saw the klutzy, ignorant little cheerleader anymore. She never embodied those qualities, anyway. I had judged her too quick. Through her soft eyes I could now recognise just how vulnerable she was but also how strong and fierce she was in nature. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.
I continued to stare at her, noting every defined feature of her face. She looked the same as she always had, but there was just something about her that seemed slightly different. Something that I had only perhaps began to notice now.
You know when you meet someone very attractive and they seem so endearing, but the moment you talk to them you find out that they're as dull as a brick? And then you meet other average people, and you don't think too much of them, but the moment you get to know them, they suddenly change? They suddenly become this really beautiful, radiant person, because their glowing personality is just written all over their face, and they turn into something so goddamn beautiful ... That was Riley Matthews.
It was her hair, her cheeks, her lips, her eyes. Especially her eyes. They were more intoxicating than I had remembered before. Now, everything about Riley seemed so intoxicating. Oh god. She was going to be the death of me.
. . .
a/n: fun fact i had no idea what the hell i was doing with this chapter so i'm so sorry it was sloppy and crap gaah.