"Can you come pick me up please?" Another Lucaya AU
The mass of sweaty bodies surrounding Maya seemed to be growing larger by the second and she was beginning to overheat. Her sweaty curls were now clinging to her face and the pair of heels that she was wearing squeezed her toes too much to be considered comfortable. She began to inch her way towards the edge of the crowd of gyrating teenagers to get some fresh air. When she finally made it out of the crowd, a sigh of relief escaped her lips. She made her way into the less packed, but still crowded kitchen to retrieve another drink.
“Where are all of your friends?” A deep voice asked her as he handed her a red cup.
Maya accepted the cup wearily and sniffed it before taking a sip because goddamn she was parched. She glanced up to see that the boy was a senior from her school who she thought she recognized as one of Lucas’s teammates. “Riley and Farkle are off somewhere playing tonsil hockey.”
“And Lucas?” He prompted, only reinforcing Maya’s assumption. “I’d think he would be following you around like the lost puppy he always is around you.”
She felt her face grimace at his comment and shook her head. “He didn’t come tonight. Said something about needing to study for a trig test on Monday.” Bored of the conversation, she began looking around the kitchen and noticed that it was a lot emptier than it had been moments before when she had entered it. “Besides, he does not follow me like a lost puppy.”
“I don’t know about that,” the tall boy laughed. Maya wasn’t sure of his name, but she thought it started with a J. He let his eyes roam her small body up and down, lingering in certain places far too long to be considered decent. When he met her eyes again she could see a darkness that made his brown eyes seem almost black. “Those heels do a number for your legs.”
Maya felt a shiver run down her back and instinctively took a step away from the suddenly menacing football player. “Listen, I better go find Riley. It’s getting awfully late. It was nice talking to you, um-”
“You don’t even know my name? Miss Hart, I am hurt.” He frowned in mock disappointment. Maya continued backing away until she was cornered by a counter and the refrigerator. “Don’t worry, short stuff. I can have you screaming it in just a matter of minutes.”
A burning anger took over the petite blonde’s body and she glared at the horny senior in front of her. He was positioned so that his arms were against the counter tops on either side of her and his face was a mere inches from hers. She looked him fiercely in the eyes and pushed his body away from hers. “I will not be screaming anyone’s name tonight, buddy. Now back off and let me go find my friends.”
He laughed at her mockingly, but did not move his face close to hers again. “Your friends are gone, pretty lady. It’s just you and me now.”
That was it. Maya stomped her heel down on the boy’s foot and then immediately thrust her knee up to hit him where it hurt, and boy did it sound like it hurt. “Listen closely. You are nothing but a pig and no girl at this school will ever be with you after I have something to say about you, ya hear me? So back off, and don’t ever try to corner me again.”
She ducked under his arm and strutted away out the front door, pulling out her cell phone as she did. She asked someone along her path if her friends truly had gone home and they confirmed the asshole’s words, so she called the only person she could think of that she trusted with a license to get to this remote party. “Lucas, can you come pick me up please?”
At some point in the twenty minutes that it had taken Lucas to get to the party, Maya had begun to feel a bit worse for wear. If she had had the energy to pick herself up she might have marched back into the house and called the guy out for spiking her drink, but she was using every last bit of energy she had to stay awake and cognizant. When Lucas finally did arrive, he jumped out of his car quickly and ran to where Maya was sat leaning against a tree in the front yard.
“Maya, are you alright?” He asked frantically. “What happened to you? Are you drunk?”
She hadn’t explained anything to him on the phone, knowing that if she had he would have probably gotten pulled over for speeding, or maybe worse. He looked at her with worried sea foam eyes and began checking her whole body for a sign that she was hurt. “Mm fine,” she slurred, barely able to get that out. “Just take me home.”
He shook his head, but wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her anyways. He carried her bridal style towards his car and cursed under his breath. “I can’t take you home like this, Maya. Your mother would kill you. You need to tell me what happened because I have never seen you this drunk in your life.”
She buried her face into his chest and groaned, feeling a pounding headache surge through her skull. “Don’t feel good,” she mumbled right before she spilled her entire stomach all over his gray shirt and all throughout her hair.
“Fuck,” he groaned as he managed to open the car door with his foot. He set her down in the passenger seat and noticed an elastic on her wrist. He gripped her hair into what sort of resembled a ponytail and sat it on the top of her head to avoid any more throw up from soiling it. He then made his way to the trunk of his car and emptied a bucket of baseballs he kept in it. He brought the bucket back over to the pale blonde and handed it to her. “If you need to be sick again, use this.” He then peeled off his shirt and threw it on the lawn, leaving it there. It was never one of his favorites anyways.
Lucas drove as fast as humanly possible without getting ticketed back to his house, periodically checking on his passenger. She only threw up into the bucket twice more before they reached their destination. He helped her out of the car and up the stairs into his house as quietly as possible as to not alert his mother of their presence. When they made it safely to Lucas’s room he let out a sigh of relief, leading Maya to his bed.
“Mind telling me what is going on now?” He asked worriedly, handing her a bottle of water that he had picked up on their way past the kitchen.
She took a big slug and met his eyes with her own cloudy blue ones. “I think I got roofied,” she laughed humorlessly.
His eyes went wide and she saw his muscles visibly tense. “What did you just say?” He boomed. “Why wouldn’t you have told me that while we were there so I could have kicked that guy’s ass?”
She smirked and shook her head. “Relax Huckleberry. I did that all by myself.”
He rolled his eyes and looked at her. “Of course you did. What was his name? Who was it?”
She shrugged and took another gulp out of the bottle. “Not sure. Tall, dark, not so handsome. Can we not talk about it please, I dealt with it myself.”
He sighed, but decided to let it go. For now. “Why don’t you go wash the throw up out of your hair and change?” He suggested, grabbing her one of the shirts from his drawer. “No offense, but you kind of smell.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes, feeling a bit better from the water and cleansing of her stomach. “Gee, thanks Lucas, that means a lot. I’ll be right back.” She accepted the light blue T-shirt from him and made her way to his bathroom.
When she shut the door behind her she let out a sigh before looking at the mirror. Her mascara was running all down her face and her messy hair had chunks of her own throw up in it. She looked almost as horrible as she felt. With another sigh, she took Lucas’s make-do ponytail out and put her head into the sink, washing her hair. She took a bottle of his shampoo and made sure that her hair was fully clean before stripping her tight silver dress off and removing her stockings. She slipped the shirt that Lucas had given her over her wet head and smiled when the soft cotton hit her skin. She smelt like Lucas and already she was feeling a lot better. The shirt reached almost to her knees and she felt quite warm despite the temperature outside. Finally, she washed the remaining makeup off of her face and took a deep breath. She stepped out of her heels and carried them, along with her dress and stockings, back into Lucas’s room.
When she returned, he was still pacing his room seemingly fuming. He looked up when he heard her shut his door and instantly stopped to stare at her. His mouth dropped slightly but he caught himself and reached up to rub the back of his neck and cleared his throat. “Do you feel any better?”
Maya nodded and laughed softly to herself when she noticed he was still shirtless, wearing a pair of old sweatpants that said “Texas A&M” on them. “A little bit. Thanks for the shirt,” she said softly.
“Yeah, uh no problem.” They both stood there a moment, staring at each other. “You can have the bed,” he finally said, walking towards the door. “I can just go sleep on the couch. My mom won’t wake up until around noon so it won’t matter-”
“Lucas,” she cut him off. He stopped his rambling and looked at her. “You don’t need to sleep on the couch.”
“Really, it’s fine. Honestly it’s kind of comfortable.”
“Lucas.” She said a bit more certain. “I think I would feel a lot better if you slept next to me.”
And it was true, she would sleep better. Although she acted all strong and tough girl, sometimes she needed someone to be there with her. She still felt some of the effect of the drug in her system and she knew that she didn’t want to be alone right now. Lucas searched her eyes for what seemed like minutes before slowly nodding and leading her to the bed. He pulled back the covers and let her crawl in first. He laid down next to her, unsure of what to do with his limbs until she cuddled into his bare chest. He cringed slightly at the feel of her wet hair, but then wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her tightly against him.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Maya,” he whispered softly into her wet mop of hair.
She pulled back from him and looked him in the eyes. “You were there for me, Lucas. You came to get me with no questions asked when I needed you and now you are letting me stay here, in your bed with you, just so that I don’t have to go home and be alone. Thank you, Huckleberry. I owe you big time.”
She let her face fall back into the crook of his neck and tangled her legs with his. He was very glad she did because it meant that she couldn’t see the giant grin plastered on his face from her words, heating his cheeks, but boy could she feel it.
I’ve been spending wayyyy too much of my free time lately studying Marceline’s outfits and color palette and the subtle transformation of her style over the seasons, and I’m super excited for the in-depth symbolic analysis post I’m planning to put together once this semester ends. Like in the very first season we see Marcy wearing mostly reds and grays, but we also see really dull pinks and purples (a reference to PB?). These colors become brighter and more vivid as we see her and Bonnie repair their relationship and Marcy finally comes to terms with her past, and I just think it’s really nice how well the writers are able to reflect these huge changes in something so simple. There’s all kinds of little connections like that I’ve made recently
ok i’ve told this story so many times i gotta put it here i’m gonna tell y’all about the dream i had where i was on chopped because it’s just too good
so it’s the appetizer round, i finish with seconds to spare as is the way, i’m not happy, the dish is all mushy, whatever. my competitors and i all line up in front of the judges and then ted allen says “ok guys, here’s the thing…….we share this set with a comedy show and they were here just now before us. one of the comedians took a shit in an oven so we can’t eat any of your food and we have to end the show now”