“Lucas,” she began slowly, which made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. In the three years he had known her, Maya had only called him by his first name maybe three times. “I don’t think we should tell Riley yet that we got things figured out.”
“What? Maya—“he sputtered, jumping up to face her.
“Hear me out first!” She implored, holding up her hands. “Riley and I talked last night. All she sees is what everyone else did – us bickering and flirting and whatever. I couldn’t convince her that you were interested in her from that first day on the subway, not me.”
“You pushed her.”
She nodded. “I did. Twice. It was an experiment. The first time, she babbled something about me, right? Since I had literally gone over to talk to you—“
“At me, actually,” he muttered.
“—not even a minute before. Think about it, Lucas. What else do you remember about that day?”
She was absolutely adorable.
Thirteen year old Lucas Friar usually scoffed at the thought of describing a girl over the age of eight as “cute”, but the wide-eyed, blushing little brunette who had just tumbled into his lap was exactly that. He had noticed her almost immediately, initially catching the mischievous and shrewd gaze of her friend first. She had smirked and returned the look fearlessly, which both intrigued him and made him a bit wary. She reminded him a bit too much of the girls at his old school in Austin, Texas–as his mama would say, ” they learned the time honored tradition of man hunting at their mama’s knee, as soon as they could bat those pretty (fake) eyelashes.” The blonde was pretty, in a flashy, wanna be rebel type of way. She had long, wavy, yellow blonde hair and blue eyes and was tiny – like a little Tinkerbell in camouflage and gold sequins, Lucas thought in amusement, watching her glance over at him again before turning back to her friend.
The little brunette glanced over too. Lucas had been watching out of the corner of his eye, although most of his attention had returned to the history book in his lap, so he was quick to meet her gaze and flash a friendly smile. Her eyes widened at being caught looking, and she whirled back around to face her friend, although her expression made the blonde grin. They were too far away to overhear their conversation so he returned to his book, but still kept watch out of the corner of his eyes. Sure enough, not thirty seconds later, the blonde came sauntering over. His first verbal encounter with little Miss Maya Hart went something like this:
“Hi. I’m Maya. You’re really cute. We should go out. You make me happy. You make me sad. You don’t pay enough attention to me. We should break up. It’s not me, it’s you. But we can still be friends (not really).”
This was all said without pause. Lucas rolled his eyes as the crazy girl–were all New York girls like that?–sauntered away again without waiting for a response. Shaking his head, he tried to return to his reading once more. A startled feminine yelp caught his attention–right before the cute little brunette came flying backwards, straight towards him. He instinctively reached up to slow her momentum, using his right arm as a brace behind her back and grabbing her by the hand just in time to swing her so that she landed neatly in his lap, instead of crashing into the wall next to him.