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ambitionsource · 4 years ago

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AMBITION Season 3 ♫ “The Beginning of the Rest of Your Life” [ 3.01 ]

CREATED BY Esther (waterstribe) & Maggie (dylanporlando) || Official Page || AO3

OUR LAST SUMMER – The Adams gang takes advantage of the final week of summer, while Charlie begins his senior year at Haverford Prep. Zay wraps up his run in West Side Story. Dylan and Asher pay Isadora a visit, and Farkle gets help from an unlikely source.

60 Minutes (23K words) || No content warnings apply.

[ ← The Sun Will Rise ] [ S3 Synopsis ] [ Almost There → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - DAY

Riley’s newest accommodations are about the same as we last left them, two beds still arranged in the space. The reminder of why there’s two appears when MAYA HART reenters the space, fresh out of the shower and wrapped up in a plush baby pink towel. She’s starting her day right, bright and early, going through her usual glam routine even in the summer.

She pauses to look at Riley’s bed, unmade and empty. In fact, it looks like it hasn’t been touched since the previous morning. Next to it, the window is open, letting in the summer breeze.

Maya makes a face, tsking with a shake of her head. Well, this can only end well. Then she shrugs, spinning to her side of the room. She places her phone down on the vanity and scrolls to a playlist titled “Mama’s Favorites.” With the press of a button, music fills the room, and so does that energetic spirit of AMBITION.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “All Summer Long” as performed by Kid Rock || Performed by Maya Hart (feat. AAA Seniors)

The rollicking old-fashioned rock tune injects a rhythm into the otherwise quiet morning, giving Maya something to groove to as she moves around getting ready. She sings along to the music, taking over the vocals for the most part.

She moves over to the wall where her future moodboard is hanging up, right above a year calendar. It’s August, though obviously the summer month is nearing its end. Maya scratches out the current day, Monday, leaving us to linger on the details scribbled onto the following Monday as she dances away. The 31st. Last day of August, and for them, the last day of summer.

Next to a bright red star sticker, a few simple words. ��Last First Day @ AAA.”

EXT. ORLANDO COMMUNITY CENTER - DAY

The protective rolling door springs up as the Orlando community center opens for the day, DYLAN ORLANDO the one opening the place up that morning. He squints out at the sunshine, then grins, smile bright enough to rival the sun.

INT. ORLANDO COMMUNITY CENTER - DAY

Dylan continues setting up for the day as he slides around, earbuds in his ears and six-string strapped on his back. He’s grown an inch or so over the summer, and his hair is a little longer, though just as windswept and fluffy as usual. Subtle changes, really, but the kind of stuff you notice after a whole hiatus apart.

On the counter, his phone vibrates with a reminder: “Open CC.” Underneath that, we can see texts from Asher.

INT. RILEY’S CAR - DAY

Another phone vibrates on the floor in the backseat of Riley’s sedan. It’s resting against a scrunched up string bag, lighting up with a call from “Dad.” When it goes to voicemail, we see this is not the first call that’s been missed -- in fact, there’s been about six since 8:30AM. Behind all those notifications, we can just make out a lock screen image of Riley, Isadora, and Lucas.

It’s no surprise who is missing all those calls. The last of the vibrations from the call rouse RILEY MATTHEWS, stretched on the backseat where she dozed off. She’s sharing the cramped space with LUCAS JAMES FRIAR, shirtless (there’s an AAA first for the history books) and seemingly unopposed to being half-used as a pillow.

He’s still sound asleep, no stranger to resting in weird places. As Riley wakes up, she takes a long moment to look at him, a dreamy, fond smile drifting across her face. She doesn’t even notice what’s off about the situation, perfectly happy to see him first thing in the morning… until her phone starts buzzing again.

Then, she remembers real quick. Her eyes widen, glancing around and realizing where she is, who she’s with, and the fact that there’s sunlight streaming through the windows. Last she recalls, it was night. She shoots upright.

Riley, harshly: Shit!

She scrambles to grab her phone, repeating the curse. She nudges Lucas to get up, starting to gather her things together. The movement is what actually wakes him up, but his T-shirt getting tossed in his face is what informs him the situation must be urgent.

INT. JACK’S APARTMENT - DAY

JACK HUNTER is having a far less stressful morning, already up and ready to go. He’s dressed casually in a T-shirt and jeans, but he grabs his briefcase as he heads out the door.

INT. JACK’S CAR - APARTMENT GARAGE - DAY

It’s not until he makes it to his car that his morning takes a turn for the worse. Jack turns his key in the ignition and… nothing. He tries again, and gets nothing but a complaining growl of the engine.

Jack: Oh, you’re kidding me…

He tries again, but no. His trusty old car has called it quits. Jack curses under his breath, grabbing his bag and clambering out of the car.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Jack is jogging down the street towards the closest Subway station. He passes by an Off-Broadway theater venue as he goes, our attention shifting to the exterior of it. Outside the theater, a poster of their current production is proudly displayed. West Side Story.

INT. WEST SIDE THEATER - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Contrasting to the bright summer sunshine, the interior of the theater is softer lit, more inviting to the eyes. It’s a well-kept space, obviously a venue that takes itself seriously.

On the stage, performers are stretching and mingling before their cast warm-up, amongst them ZAY BABINEAUX. He’s the youngest by a long shot, but he seems to fit in seamlessly with the rest of them as if he’s a seasoned professional. He cracks jokes with some of his co-stars as he joins them by the orchestra pit, confident and warmly received.

He’s totally in his element. For a moment, it might be easy to forget he’s still a teenager. He shifts into work mode when the DIRECTOR joins them on stage and beckons them together for notes and vocal warm-ups.

She leads them in a quick grounding exercise, encouraging them all to take a deep breath. As they inhale…

INT. MINKUS HOME - FARKLE’S BEDROOM - DAY

FARKLE MINKUS is also taking a deep breath, though something about the moment seems… off. It isn’t until the screen starts tilting, flipping us right-side up, that it’s clear Farkle is upside down. He’s reclined on his bed, head hanging off the edge as he finishes a breathing meditation exercise guided by his phone.

The moment it ends, he pulls himself back upright. He’s dressed comfortably, but sharper than most of last year, finally approaching a happy medium between the extremes of his personality. His hair has grown back from its buzzcut, closer to the coiff it once was.

He climbs off the bed, heading to his window and drawing back the curtains. Sunlight floods the room, presenting a stark contrast to his state this time last year.

INT. SVORSKI’S COFFEE - DAY

ERIC MATTHEWS is also enjoying the sunshine, soaking it up with a content smile as he waits in line at the local coffee shop. When it’s his turn and he approaches the counter, the barista asks him if he wants “the usual.” He nods, gracing her with a smile and then moving to the area to wait for his order.

While there, he crafts a text on his phone. It’s to Isadora, checking in on her and giving her a list of small reminders for when she wakes up -- brush her teeth, change her clothes, find something to eat, even if it’s small. He also notes that he’ll be back before dinner.

Their message thread seems to be pretty one-sided. Isadora’s answers are sparse, and when she does they’re usually one word. But Eric doesn’t seem perturbed by it.

Once his order is ready and he goes to retrieve it, we see that his “usual” is two coffees. That seems like an awful lot of caffeine to be drinking alone, Eric… he gives the crew at Svorski’s a cheerful wave goodbye, heading out.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - DAY

Maya is further in her glam routine, still owning the song and dancing around the room as she goes. Make-up, hair, the works. She’s wearing a sheer off-white robe over her camisole and shorts, more for the aesthetic than any sort of cover-up -- Sharpay Evans and Cher Horowitz would be proud. The montage continues to cut to her intermittently through the remainder of the song.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - DAY

Unlike Eric and Jack, not everyone is dressed casually this Monday morning. Quick close shots show the careful process of getting an outfit together -- tightening a striped blue tie, adjusting cuffs, pulling on a deep navy blue blazer.

As we pan up, CHARLIE GARDNER finishes piecing together his Haverford uniform. He looks markedly different from when we last saw him, hair cut much shorter than it was at the end of junior year. He looks great in his uniform, sharp, clean-cut and well-groomed, but he doesn’t look confident in it. It’s more like the uniform is wearing him.

But he doesn’t have time to obsess over it. It’s his first day, and he wants to give himself plenty of time to get oriented. He grabs his bag off the bed with a change of clothes and a pair of dance sneakers. The rest of his dance duffle gets left behind, sitting forgotten by the wall with his guitar.

INT. ORLANDO COMMUNITY CENTER - DAY

Dylan, however, has no shortage of guitar. He takes the guitar solo in the latter half of the song, shredding on his six-string and bopping around the community center.

INT. RILEY’S CAR - DAY

Riley pulls up at the curb to let Lucas out in a rush -- back in his shirt -- questioning if he has everything and passing his phone to him when he almost leaves it on the center console. He’s fully out of the car when she shouts for him to come back one more time.

Riley: Wait, wait, wait --

Lucas leans inside just long enough for Riley to stretch across the seat and give him a kiss. Then she sets him free, assuring him that she’ll catch up with him soon.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Lucas, still a little dazed, backs onto the sidewalk as Riley’s car speeds away. He watches her go, then shakes his head, trying to pull himself back together. He turns and heads inside where she’s dropped him off -- the beloved Chubbies, his new workplace.

INT. GARCIA HOME - ASHER’S BEDROOM - DAY

Another calendar comes into focus, though this one is far more cluttered with notes and reminders than Maya’s. Someone leans in to cross an “X” over the current day, and when we pull back we see a familiar bulletin board populated with photos, flyers, and note cards.

Though there are many new photos from the summer, the most notable is the creased but unfolded photo of Dylan, Lucas, and Asher, back in its rightful place pinned up. Next to it, there’s a pamphlet for a university, the Rochester Institute of Technology.

ASHER GARCIA steps back from the board, shifting his focus to his agenda laying open on the desk. He’s sporting a cute, patterned short-sleeve button down, a summer spin on his usual attire. He gathers up a couple of notebooks and folders for the school year, way ahead of the game in preparing for the school year.

He drops one set into his messenger bag, then puts the others into the backpack slouched against the wall next to it. Based on the Spongebob patch and doodles all over it, it’s no guess who the extra bag belongs to.

INT. ORLANDO COMMUNITY CENTER - DAY

Dylan continues his groovy guitar playing as the song crescendos into the final chorus.

EXT. AAA - DAY

Jack has finally made it to the familiar stomping grounds of Adams Academy for the Arts, jogging up the steps without hesitation.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - DAY

Maya similarly boogies around, now ready for the day.

EXT. HAVERFORD PREP - DAY

Charlie moves with more apprehension as he steps off the main street and onto Haverford’s campus, a spacious chunk of a block on the Upper East Side. The school boasts an open-air, modern architecture, a far cry from the classic structure of Adams. He has to move through the lawn and outdoor eating pavilions before he gets close to the building itself, other boys dressed in the sleek Haverford blue mingling around him.

Taking a deep breath, Charlie braves the plunge and approaches the tall glass doors, disappearing into the belly of the beast.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - DAY

As the song winds down, Riley clambers up the fire escape and back in through her bedroom window. She’s way too late, though, a fuming and frantic CORY MATTHEWS waiting for her return with his arms crossed. Behind him, Maya watches the scene with amusement.

Cory: Riley Erica Matthews!

Riley grimaces, halfway through the window. Busted.

Riley: Oh, shi --

Cue title sequence.

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s with great joy that I finally say: welcome back to AMBITION.

INT. HAVERFORD PREP - PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE - DAY

Charlie is seated in a posh oak chair opposite the desk of AARON JACKSON, who is leisurely leafing through his transfer paperwork. Despite their names, there is little in common between Principal Jackson and Principal Hunter of AAA. Whereas Jack always had an edge of grit, Aaron has a dignified, refined air about him -- the shine of a man who has always known privilege. His office feels the same, darker and more studious in appearance, reflecting the nature of the school.

Still, he’s not without warmth. He seems good-spirited as he gives Charlie a light smile, peering at him over his paperwork. Charlie manages to return it, trying his best not to appear as nervous as he is.

Aaron: Nice recommendations, good community service record. Excellent grades… do you think you may have been valedictorian at Adams?

Charlie: Oh, I don’t know. I had classmates a lot smarter than me in the A class.

Aaron hums, focusing back on the paperwork. Then he sets it on the desk, giving Charlie his full attention.

Aaron: I hope you don’t mind my asking, Mister Gardner, but I’m curious. It’s not often that we get transfers so late in their high school career, especially not from Adams Academy. To be frank, you’d find that a fair handful of your peers here at Haverford had Adams as their first choice when they applied, but didn’t make the cut.

The question goes without saying. What is he doing there, jumping schools, when he likely had it made in the shade at AAA? Charlie clears his throat, offering his practiced charming smile.

Charlie: I just thought that the change of pace might be good for me. Adams is great, of course, and I was sad to leave it. I’m going to miss… it will be an adjustment, for sure, but I’m sure I’ll find exactly the enrichment I need while at Haverford.

Well, hard to argue with that flattering assessment. Aaron doesn’t seem fully convinced, but he brushes it off easily. It’s not his business after all.

Aaron: Well, we’re happy to have you with us regardless. With your impressive record, and your dance ability, I have no doubt you’ll fit well within the ranks of the Haverford senior class.

With that, Aaron gets down to business, shifting to discussing his schedule and how things work at the school. Once they’re done going through the necessary orientation points, Aaron will make sure he gets to performance lab, and his classmates will take it from there.

Charlie maintains his pleasant smile as he’s handed his welcome packet and schedule, but it falters as he starts flipping through it.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Back in the brighter principal’s office, Jack is flurrying about trying to get things in order after his uneven start that morning. Eric appears in his doorway with a cheery greeting, passing off that second coffee to Jack as soon as he notices him and returns his hello. Jack takes the beverage gratefully, commenting that Eric always knows exactly what he needs.

Eric clearly takes pride in the comment, coming further into the room. He comments on Jack’s frazzled state, and Jack explains that his car decided to stop working this morning. As tragic as that news is, Eric doesn’t seem surprised.

Eric: Jack, you’ve been driving that dinosaur for like fifteen years, and it wasn’t new when you bought it. It was bound to crap out eventually.

Jack: William is a fighter, Eric. He wouldn’t just give up on me like that.

Eric rolls his eyes, reminding Jack that he’s way more theatrical than he lets on. He points out that things get old, and they die. It’s the circle of life. Life has a funny way of letting you know when things don’t work as they are anymore, when it’s time to move on.

Eric: I’m more surprised you walked all the way here.

Jack: Subway was running late.

Eric: Not my point. I would’ve given you a ride.

Jack: You’re coming from the opposite direction.

Eric: You know I don’t care about that. I would’ve picked you up.

From the tone of their banter, it’s clear that it wouldn’t be the first time Eric and Jack have carpooled this summer. Jack hesitates, meeting his gaze, before shrugging it off and directing them back to the task at hand. They’ve got a big week ahead, as they have to assess Adams for any damage and make sure everything is in sterling shape before the school year kicks off again.

This year, it matters more than ever. As Jack states, they’ll be having a new coworker join them this year from the school board as an administrative advisor, meant to observe how things are running after the turbulence of the Lucas and Bradford situation last year. So now, they really can’t afford to slip up.

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

Speaking of slip-ups, Riley reiterates the morning madness to Farkle and a tickled Maya, sitting in a booth at Chubbies. The divas are across from her while Lucas is seated next to her, arm casually draped around her shoulders as she relays Cory’s tirade and the resulting punishment: she’s basically forbidden from seeing Lucas for the rest of the week, at least until they go back to school and he can’t very well stop them.

Maya: So, like… hanging out at Chubbies?

Riley glances at Lucas, who raises an eyebrow. She clasps her hands together and shrugs, maintaining a tone of innocent sweetness.

Riley: Well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Farkle: Wow. The summer of love really changed you.

Riley makes a face at him. Lucas claims Cory is going to get what he wants anyway, seeing as he can’t just sit around all day. As he starts to get up from the table his attire becomes clearer, dressed in a pale blue Chubbies t-shirt with an off-white apron tied around his waist. Riley tries to get him to stay, but she still helps him loop the top half of his apron around his neck.

Lucas: I gotta work.

Riley: Okay, okay… but I’ll see you later.

Lucas: Very daring of you.

The two of them exchange a quick kiss, Riley smiling as they pull apart. Maya scrunches her nose, playfully disgusted.

Maya: Ew.

As Lucas marches away, he points back to Maya offhandedly.

Lucas: I’m not serving you.

Maya scowls, holding her hands up in surrender to Riley and Farkle. Farkle laughs, shaking his head. Riley changes the subject, electing to focus on the positive. She claims that maybe the Lucas ban will be a good thing, as it’ll give her plenty of time to spend with her favorite friends in their last week of their last high school summer.

Farkle: Sounds lovely. But can’t.

As Farkle goes on to explain -- bitterly -- he has a million doctors appointments scheduled for the week as his parents are determined to make sure he’s in top shape to go back to school. This is following a whole summer of therapies and overattentiveness and mindfulness exercises -- which he hates, by the way.

Farkle: I’m supposed to have thoughts! If our brains weren’t meant to think, then we wouldn’t think.

Maya: Most people don’t.

Farkle: Point is, mindfulness is bullshit. It makes me feel crazy, and I’m already crazy. It’s just ironic that last year all I wanted was my parents’ attention, and now I can’t wait for them to leave me alone…

Maya: Grass is always greener, darling.

Riley seems disappointed she won’t see more of him this week, but she keeps her sights set on the future. She confirms that he’s still going to go to West Side Story on Saturday night. It’s Zay’s last performance in the production, and she wants to get as many of them there to support him as possible.

Farkle assures her he can manage that, then gets up to head off to his first appointment of the day. Without him, all that leaves for company… is Maya. She gives Riley a sharp smile, Riley laughing awkwardly and dipping her head down to avoid her gaze. Wow, suddenly, she just remembered a bunch of stuff she has to do…

Maya rolls her eyes, leaning across the table to nudge at her. She claims it’ll be a good thing for them to hang out -- they haven’t done very much roommate bonding since they were forced to share a space.

Riley: Something you specifically said you weren’t interested in when it happened…

Maya: Yes, well, times change. Speaking of, our room. That could use some change, don’t you think? I can’t live in the humdrummery any longer.

This doesn’t seem like the worst potential bonding activity, but Riley seems hesitant. She says they’d have to ask Cory, a task that is far less intimidating to Maya than her. There’s no harm in asking. Tentatively, Riley agrees, though Maya seems dissatisfied with her hesitant answer.

Maya: Sneaking around with your boyfriend you can do, but you can’t ask your dad to redecorate? God, you gotta grow like a minimal assertive streak. You’d think some of mine would’ve rubbed off on you by now.

Riley doesn’t know what to say to that, but Maya doesn’t give her the chance to respond. She leaps up to head out and Riley follows suit, only falling behind when she runs into Asher and Dylan at the entrance. They exchange bright greetings, Riley sharing a hug with Dylan before she jogs to catch up to Maya.

Asher and Dylan find Lucas at the counter.

Dylan: Lucas James Friar! [ slamming his hands on the countertop ] Do you have something for me?

Dylan narrows his eyes expectantly. Lucas matches his glare, deadpan, until he cracks with a huff. He rolls his eyes and reaches to grab a perfectly-made grilled cheese, sliding it across the counter at him. Dylan reacts in delight, Asher smiling at him as the two of them settle onto the stools at the counter. Asher asks how things are going, and Lucas gives them the short version of how his morning started.

Dylan: [ while eating his grilled cheese ] Oh, overnight? Scandalous.

Lucas: It was not. We fell asleep. We were sleeping.

Dylan: Mhm, mhm. For sure. Totally. I believe you…

Dylan winks. Lucas rolls his eyes again and Asher shakes his head, but he can’t help but smile. Lucas claims it’s for the best, as it frees him up to spend the rest of his week working. He was pretty heavily booked with shifts anyway.

Lucas: I’m this close to being able to pay you back for my wrist --

Asher: Something that you do not have to do, for the hundredth time.

Lucas: Then I’ll be able to start saving it for myself. What for, I don’t know, but it’ll be damn nice to have it.

Asher points out he could be saving the money for school, but Lucas quickly side steps that conversation. He shifts to discussing what their week looks like before school starts again, all of them coming back to the same talking point -- Isadora. None of them have seen her for the last month or so, and any time they try to reach out she says she’s not up for visitors.

Understandable, given she’s grieving, but it’s been a couple months and they’re worried about her. Not to mention school is coming back, and that’ll be harder if she’s totally out of practice when it comes to socializing. Lucas can’t be of much help due to his work schedule, but he points out that’s not much of a loss as he’s terrible at stuff like this. Honestly, usually he and Isadora just tend to make each other worse at low points.

Before they can problem-solve, their conversation is interrupted by JOE, the Chubbies manager, breezing past them. He’s a large, slovenly man with Santa-like salt-and-pepper facial hair and in a Chubbies shirt that seems perpetually grease-stained. But he’s a smart businessman and quite the character, respected and loved fondly by the patrons of the diner and a decent boss. In fact, some regulars have taken to calling him “Pappy Joe,” due to his sort of roughrider demeanor.

He greets the boys gruffly, obviously well-acquainted with Dylan and Asher after a summer of them hanging around to chat with Lucas. They ask him if he thinks they’re going to keep Lucas on as an employee past his summer trial run. Joe sizes Lucas up, squinting, before patting his shoulder bracingly.

Joe: Well, he didn’t rob us blind or burn down the shack -- accidentally or otherwise -- so I s’pose we can keep him around.

Asher grins, nudging Lucas’s forearm in cheeky congratulations. Dylan smiles as well, subtly nudging his free grilled cheese out of view of the burly manager.

Once Joe saunters off, they get back on topic. Asher states that he and Dylan will check in on Isadora -- they’ve got Dylan, the one person to whom Isadora can’t say no. Depending on how she seems to be doing, they’ll go from there.

INT. WEST SIDE THEATER - BACKSTAGE - DAY

Zay opens the door from the atrium and emerges in the backstage hall, leading YINDRA AMINO and NIGEL CHEY on a tour of the theater. The two friends are starstruck, captivated by being around an actual production where the magic happens.

Zay is excitedly showing them around, pointing out fun facts and cool exclusive pieces like costumes and the props table. They exchange greetings and brief introductions with his castmates as they pass by, everyone friendly.

Once they end up in the wings and Yindra and Nigel marvel at the real bona fide Broadway set, Zay huddles closer and points towards the stage where a young man, dressed as Tony, is running through “Maria.” Zay tells them all about him and speaks highly of him, admiration in his tone.

Zay: He’s like a master. You’ve seen his rendition of “Something’s Coming.”

Nigel: Yeah, he was pretty good.

Zay: He’s great. And he’s a true professional, always on top of things, makes everyone else feel good and valued and welcome. I feel like I’ve watched his rehearsals so often I could do the part just by memory alone.

Yindra: Sounds like someone has a boy crush.

Zay rolls his eyes, elbowing her as they turn away. But his esteem doesn’t end there.

Zay: He’s exactly what I want to be, when I get there one day. Oh, and you know the craziest thing? He’s had a cold for the last week, but he still gets up and pushes through it every night to perform. And he sounds just as good! That’s showmanship to admire.

Maybe a little unhealthy, but then, I guess that’s show business. Nigel claims he’s glad he wasn’t sick when he saw it last month, or when he brought Jade to see it. Yindra agrees, though she jokingly claims no one could be better than their Zayby boy as she throws an arm around his shoulders and half-hugs him.

Nigel informs him that they’ll both be seeing it again that Saturday, and he thinks Jade is coming too. Riley is getting a whole bunch of them to come, she’s basically campaigning. Zay comments that sounds about right, considering it’s Riley. This leads them into a discussion about who from their class has come to see it already, Yindra and Nigel listing back and forth while Zay offers help here and there based on his knowledge.

When Charlie inevitably comes up, Zay grows quieter, losing some of his comfortable confidence. Yindra and Nigel don’t notice, too caught up in commentary about his whereabouts.

Nigel: I thought he did come. Didn’t he see it during opening week?

Yindra: That’s what Haley said was the plan, but then he didn’t show. Something about how his grandmother got ill so they had to drive up coast to see her.

Nigel: Really? I thought he said his grandmother was dead. Like two years ago.

Yindra: I mean, it’s exactly in line with how he’s been acting this summer. He has been so hard to get a hold of. I haven’t seen him at all.

This seems like the last thing Zay wants to talk about. He waits for a strategic lull in their complaints to change the subject, distracting them with offers to see the dressing rooms. They jump at the chance, leaving the conversation of their missing friend behind.

INT. HAVERFORD PREP - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Your Love (Déjà Vu)” as performed by Glass Animals || Performed by Haverford Seniors

Charlie, meanwhile, is just beginning to explore Haverford. He slips into the auditorium from the back of the house, looking towards the stage where rehearsal is already in progress.

The Haverford seniors -- his new classmates -- are in the midst of a skillful rendition of the Glass Animals single. It pairs well with their signature strengths: layered harmonies, suave moves, synchronization. With the matching uniforms, only varied by whether the boys have elected to strip their blazers during rehearsal and whether they’ve rolled their sleeves, etc., it’s hard to differentiate any of them at first glance. They’re a perfect, polished machine of sonic harmony.

That is, except for their frontman. Carrying the brunt of the vocals front and center is BRANDON RIVAS, an especially debonair senior with slick confidence and obvious talent. We’ve seen him before, at the Jacobs gala and the students of color mixer. He’s got a charming, intriguing smirk and dark, glossy hair styled well enough to rival Asher.

Regardless of your feelings on them, the Haverford boys are mesmerizing to watch. The performance seems to slip by in no time flat, and before Charlie knows it they’re breaking to go freshen up before their next class. Brandon rattles off some general notes for them to work on before their next run-through, the rest of them giving him shoulder pats and farewells as they head off to the dressing rooms.

Suddenly, it’s just Charlie and Brandon. The latter half turns towards him, aware of his presence despite Charlie being well-hidden in shadow. He claims he can come up and join him now, no sense in staying in the dark. The direct address snaps Charlie out of his nerves, and he jogs up the steps to come meet him.

Brandon, smoothly: No need to be shy. This is your stage now too, isn’t it?

Maybe so. Charlie strides across the stage to stand in front of him, Brandon waiting casually with his hands in his pockets. He sizes him up as he approaches, looking him over, but for what it’s worth he doesn’t seem critical. He holds out a hand once he’s close enough.

Brandon: Brandon Rivas. Nice to finally officially meet you.

Charlie: Charlie. And thanks.

Brandon: I know who you are. I saw your audition, though I’m sure you don’t remember me. “I Can Do That” is a difficult number if you actually intend to show off any skill, and you managed it well. At least, after you tied your shoelaces. That, and I’d heard a bit about you through the grapevine.

Charlie clearly wants to know more about that, like who would even be talking about him, but Brandon doesn’t offer anything more. He changes the subject, stating that he’s essentially the eyes and ears of the senior class and the de facto leader, if there was one. They’re all equals at Haverford, make no mistake, but it’s helpful to have a figurehead of sorts. Someone to look to and maintain order.

Brandon: This will be helpful for you, of course, because you can ask me anything you might be wondering while you make your transition. I know just about everything there is to know. First, though, we should get you acquainted. Fancy a look around?

Charlie nods, grateful for the warm welcome. Brandon gestures for him to follow, leading him on the start of a grand tour of Haverford Prep from someone who actually knows the ins and outs day-to-day. Charlie keeps pace, not wanting to get left behind.

Jack, pre-lap: We need to do a full examination of the building.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Jack and Eric are making their way through the darkened school, the former leading the way while the latter takes notes on a clipboard. They’re inspecting for anything that seems out of date, not up to snuff, eager to make a perfect first impression for the incoming administrator.

Jack: I don’t want to give them any easy shots. If they want to criticize on baseless claims, then we’re going to make sure they have to dig deep.

Eric: Don’t think that should be too hard. The school itself is in great shape, and with the exception of the senior A class, the students have always done well. Even the A class is likely to be better after everything last year.

Jack: Yes, but when you’re looking for error --

Eric jogs to catch up to him, coming to head him off. He tucks the clipboard under his arm and takes Jack’s arms, gently stopping his relentless march and meeting his eyes.

Eric: You know this whole thing the board is doing is inane, right? You’re a good administrator. You’ve made mistakes, yes, but we all have. There is no such thing as perfect.

Jack: Very nice. Thank you for the affirmation, Hannah Montana.

Eric, sincerely: You do a good job, Jack. You love this school, and the students, and they appreciate you. They know it wouldn’t be the same without you.

Though it’s biased coming from his counselor, there’s actually quite a bit of weight to the statement coming from Eric. It means something, because for a long time Eric didn’t believe it. It means something, and it clearly means a lot to Jack.

Still, there might be other reasons he speaks so highly of him. Jack clears his throat, torn between holding his gaze and glancing anywhere else.

Jack: Some might say you’re biased. Especially given… the way we are. With each other.

Eric: … yeah? What exactly does that mean to you?

The air is suddenly a little bit thinner between them. It’s more than obvious as they hold eye contact that they both know they share something greater than coworkers. That they’re something more to one another. They know it, might have even discussed it, but evidently haven’t landed on anything definitive.

Jack ducks the question, shifting his gaze behind Eric. He comments that the curtains could probably afford to be replaced, or at least deep-cleaned. He effortlessly slips from Eric’s grasp and shifts back into work mode, leaving him to grapple with the uncertainty yet again.

Eric takes a deep breath, then follows after him with the clipboard. Still willing to march with him, even when he doesn’t know to what degree they’re tied together.

INT. DOCTOR’S OFFICE - DAY

Farkle is sitting up on the examination table, having just finished consulting with his primary care physician. JENNIFER MINKUS is with him, there for the analysis of Farkle’s current state and where they should go from here.

All in all, good news. The physician commends Farkle’s improved BMI and overall health, that he’s picked back up the weight he lost last year and his vitals seem to be reading more stable than they were in the spring. While improvements could still be made -- more rigorous exercise, for one -- he’s well on his way to being back in shape.

When the doctor starts getting into specifics about what changes could be made and Jennifer takes out her phone to take notes, Farkle zones out. Blah, blah, blah, he’s heard all of it before. He pulls out his phone as well, but not for notes. He opens his message thread with Isadora instead, crafting a text to check in on her.

He texts her about being at the doctor and what’s going on with her this week, but doesn’t get an immediate response. Even though their banter seems to be more consistent and varied than the messages with Eric, she’s gone off the radar a bit for him, too.

EXT. HAVERFORD PREP - DAY

Concluding their tour, Brandon shows Charlie what he states is one of his favorite locations on campus. It’s a balcony walkway that bridges the two wings of the school, joined under the angular solar-paneled glass ceilings. They approach the banister facing out towards the city, a gorgeous view of the campus below.

Charlie seems a bit overwhelmed after the tour. Brandon asks him what he thinks and he simply claims it’s a lot different than AAA. That goes without saying, given the vastly different architecture and student body, but there’s a loaded quality to the statement that goes deeper.

Brandon examines him, not giving anything away. It’s unclear if he’s empathizing or just trying to figure him out, but he assures Charlie that he’ll adjust to Haverford in no time. It’s the best school there is, after all, so there’s little chance he couldn’t.

Brandon: Thing about Haverford is that it’s tight. We’re a band of brothers, so we look out for each other. If you pull your weight, then the boys will be there when you need them. Even if you show up three years late.

Charlie: Oh, well, that’s reassuring.

Brandon: [ with a laugh ] I’m only saying, I don’t know why you’re here or why you decided to leave Adams, but the fact is you’re here now. You make the most of it, truly turn yourself over, then I have no doubt you’re going to thrive. You feel me?

All things considered, Charlie is grateful everyone seems to be so friendly. At least in completely cutting the cord from his former support system, he doesn’t have to drift through senior year alone. He offers a smile.

Charlie: Thanks. Seriously, that’s nice to hear.

Brandon returns the smile, though his is understandably more confident. He reaches out and gives Charlie a pat on the shoulder.

Brandon: Welcome to Haverford, Charlie. We’re happy to have you in the brotherhood.

Brandon leaves him be, heading back inside. Charlie hangs back, glancing out towards the city for a moment longer. Out towards the west side, where AAA sits preparing for a school year without him.

Then he backs off, straightening his tie as he follows Brandon inside.

INT. ERIC’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Eric arrives home after a busy day, tired but still with plenty to do. He dumps his things on a table before making his way to Isadora’s bedroom, knocking on the door before peeking his head in.

INT. ERIC’S APARTMENT - ISADORA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Isadora is lying on her unmade bed, wearing pajamas she never changed out of and staring blankly at her ceiling, where glow-in-the-dark stars have been stuck on. She doesn’t move upon Eric’s arrival. He asks her questions about how she’s doing, but gets no response to any of them. He sighs, used to this type of interaction between them.

Eric: I’m going to make some dinner. I’ll let you know when it’s ready, and you can either eat with me or in here. Whatever you want to do.

He watches her for a moment longer, concerned, but leaves her be when she turns onto her side, her back to him.

Once her door is shut again, Isadora takes a shaky breath. She sits up and grabs her phone, scrolling through the various notifications she has — Farkle and Eric’s texts, Maya sending her a post on Instagram, and a voice note from Dylan. She stares at the screen, inwardly battling between replying or ignoring. Ultimately, she throws the phone across her bed and flops onto her back, looking up at the stars on her ceiling once again.

As gentle piano fades in...

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “My Mistake” as performed by Gabrielle Aplin || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz

Isadora starts the song on her bed, getting up after the first verse to walk around her room. She lingers on various things she passes. There’s a photo collage in a frame on her desk, filled with pictures taken over the past three years with her friends, to whom she sings “I really want a conversation, but I let it slip away...”

On her bedside table is a solar system lamp that spins when she pushes it. One wall is covered in space-themed movie posters, her fingers brushing along E.T. on a bicycle in front of the moon, and an astronaut sat alone on a bench in Love.

Following the chorus, as she sings “I saw my friend today, he tried to comfort me,” Isadora leaves her bedroom and walks over to where Eric is cooking in the kitchen, but he’s unaware of her presence.

I don’t think I’ll ever change...

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

With the swell of the chorus, Isadora leaves the apartment, transitioning to the streets of New York, where she continues to go unnoticed. People pass through her as though she’s a ghost. She imagines various familiar faces passing her by. Lucas playfully rolls his eyes at Dylan, who has an arm thrown around Asher’s shoulders, animatedly talking about something. Riley and Zay stand in line at a pretzel stand, laughing together at a joke Zay is telling. Finally, Maya pulls Farkle towards a shop window with excitement, pointing out a mannequin dressed in a glamorous faux fur coat. Farkle walks away, and Maya chases after him with a grin.

Isadora arrives in an empty park, decorated with fairy lights that twinkle like stars. She belts out the final chorus before the twinkling lights transition to the stars on her ceiling...

INT. ERIC’S APARTMENT - ISADORA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

And we’re back in her bedroom for the final soft “well, at least it was my mistake…”

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - DAY

Cory convenes with Riley and Maya, the two of them finishing up their dissertation on why they should be allowed to redecorate their room. Since they’re going to have to make this arrangement work for a while, he agrees that perhaps they could afford to spruce things up. He gives them a small sum to work with on the family credit card -- not as much as Maya was hoping for, but still something. Victory!

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - DAY

The girls immediately retreat to the bedroom to start planning, Maya pulling out some poster board from behind her dresser to start moodboarding. She sizes up the board, already trying to visualize it as Riley moves to her side of the room.

Maya: I admit I was hoping for a little more bank to work with, but it’s fine. I’m an artist. [ deep sigh ] I can get creative. Just with a little time to mentally rearrange…

Riley: Actually, we might have a little more money.

Maya’s eyes fly open, more intrigued at that than anything else Riley has ever said. She asks what she’s talking about, and Riley explains that she mentioned their plans to her mom, and she thought the idea was great. She may have sent over some money into her account for them to put towards the project. Maya asks how much, rushing over to look over Riley’s shoulder at her laptop screen.

However much money she sees, it’s enough to make her gasp and practically jump up and down. She presses her hands to her chest, theatrically overwhelmed.

Maya: Hell yes! Thank you, mama Lawrence.

Riley: I mean, it’s nice, but don’t consider it charity. She’s always looking for ways to one-up my dad, so it’s more for her benefit than ours.

Maya: God damn, I wish I had divorced parents. What an easy game to play. All I’ve got is a deadbeat I haven’t seen since I was in diapers, and let me tell you, he’s not throwing money around to win my favor.

Riley isn’t exactly inclined to agree, but it’s no use trying to correct her. It’s Maya. Anyway, she is excited to start planning and shopping, but they’re going to have to wait a day. She already has plans that afternoon.

Maya: What could possibly be more important than bling?

Riley, pointedly: Friendship.

Maya doesn’t seem convinced, but to each their own. As Riley goes to get ready, Maya shifts back to the blank poster board. She’s much more excited now that their budget has been upped considerably.

INT. ERIC’S APARTMENT - DAY

Isadora emerges from her room, still clad in cotton shorts and a sweatshirt but at least up and moving. It’s because she’s expecting company, getting to the living room just as there’s a knock at the door.

When she pulls it open, Dylan and Asher are waiting on the other side. They give her enthusiastic smiles when they see her, not even faltering at her less than composed appearance. Asher claims it’s so good to see her, and she says they should feel honored. The only reason she’s letting them stop by is Dylan’s promised cupcakes.

Dylan holds the tupperware out proudly, and Isadora takes it. He starts to warn her that the message he intended didn’t quite translate over, but she’s already prying open the lid. The mistake is glaringly obvious, the cupcakes arranged to spell out “Feel better Isado ♥” with the heart tacked onto the end.

Isadora stares at the cupcakes, then looks up at them for explanation. Dylan eyes them forlornly.

Dylan: I ran out of cupcakes.

Asher, fondly: He wrote the heart first.

Dylan smiles sheepishly. He’s so darn cute, and genuine at that, even Isadora can’t help but crack a smile. She laughs a bit, closing the tupperware container.

Isadora: They’re perfect. Thanks, Dyl.

His smile brightens. Isadora invites them both in, claiming she can at least show them her new room since they made all the effort to come over. Dylan comments how crazy it is that they’re entering a faculty member’s home.

Asher: We’ve been to Riley’s.

Dylan: Come on, Cory’s not like a real faculty. If he evaporated, would anybody notice?

Asher: You know you don’t have to convince me of Cory’s irrelevancy or failures as an educator.

Isadora: Yeah, if he ever does go missing, you’re my first suspect.

Fair enough. Isadora drops the cupcakes on the counter in the kitchen and then guides them back down the hall to her room.

INT. ERIC’S APARTMENT - ISADORA’S BEDROOM - DAY

Whereas her physical appearance is easy to forgive, the state of her room is less so. It’s a total disaster area, the products of depression and general lack of fucks to give, though essences of how she originally designed it manage to peek through.

Asher, however, cannot ignore the mess. He stops stock still in the doorway with wide eyes, taking it all in with a subtle expression of horror as Dylan plows in after Isadora, not at all attune to the disarray. Asher takes his entrance more cautiously, careful to step on the few places on the floor where dirty laundry doesn’t reign.

Dylan asks Isadora how her summer has been and how it feels like they haven’t seen her since June. They lightly tread the subject of how she’s recovering from Valerie’s death, but it’s obvious she doesn’t want to talk about it. When Dylan asks what plans she has for the last week of summer and she basically intends to just waste it away in her room, Dylan gets fired up on her behalf. He claims she can’t waste this time. It’s important! Indispensable! Of great import!

Isadora, to Asher: Word of the day calendar?

Asher: Oh, no, now he’s just started flipping through the thesaurus when I’m reading books. It’s kind of impressive, isn’t it?

Dylan: Dora, you cannot let this time just wither away. We’re in the prime, okay? This is the BOT-R-O-Y-L!

Isadora blinks, lost. She looks to Asher again, checking to make sure that was English, but even he seemed stumped. He shrugs.

Asher: Even I don’t know.

Dylan rolls his eyes. Asher shifts his focus back to the mess, lightly nudging at a sweater on the floor with his Oxfords.

Dylan: BOT-R-O-Y-L. “The beginning of the rest of your life.” It’s happening now, Dor, and you can’t just let it slip away.

Isadora: You’re serious. The last week of summer vacation is supposed to be the beginning of the rest of my life?

Dylan: Yes! It is. Because this is the last summer where we’re all going to be here, in this way, exactly as we are now. And everything that comes after it is gonna come fast -- senior year, college choices, graduation. And when all that’s happening, you won’t be focused on it. You won’t be in the now, because you’ll be stuck here thinking about how you didn’t take advantage of this time when you should’ve. And that will just make you miss out on everything else. Like you’ll always be a few steps behind. The future is now!

Isadora: … okay, you’re a weirdo, but you’re strangely making sense.

Asher: [ tuning back into the conversation while he folds a couple of jackets onto her dresser ] He’s good at that.

Point made. Isadora concedes it, but she also says that socializing is hard enough when she’s not… boiling over with emotions she still hasn’t figured out how to process. She knows she should be over it by now -- which Dylan and Asher both quickly refute, stating grief takes different time for everyone -- but it just feels like a lot. It’s easier to just stay in and keep that away from everyone else.

Dylan hears this, but he reiterates that they miss her. She can just try today, come out and do something with the two of them, and if it really feels like too much then no harm no foul. But Dylan feels pretty confident she’ll like it once she’s back out there. He knows she doesn’t feel quite like herself, but...

Dylan: We’d rather have Dora at half-volume than no Dora at all.

This sentiment touches her, but she still doesn’t seem convinced. When she expresses her reluctance to go out again, Asher offers a suggestion of his own.

Asher: Well, if going out feels like too much of a burden, then we could always stay here and clean.

It sounds like a joke, but coming from Asher, the statement is one-hundred percent earnest. Dylan gives Isadora a pointed look.

Isadora: Okay, okay, fine. You got me, anything but that. Do your worst.

Isadora leads the march out, Dylan grinning. He meets Asher in the doorway, fondly pinching his side and leaning closer to whisper.

Dylan: Good thinking on the cleaning thing. Always count on you to come up with a clever strategy.

He gives him a brisk kiss on the cheek, catching up with Isadora. Asher frowns slightly as he follows them out.

Asher: It wasn’t a strategy…

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Maya is in fact window shopping downtown, but not with Farkle. She’s on the phone with him instead, keeping up conversation as she peers in boutique windows. It’s clear she’s excited about having some money to spend. Every other line in their conversation, she punctuates with a “ooh, that’s cute…” or hum of excitement.

INT. MINKUS HOME - FARKLE’S BEDROOM - DAY

The actual subject of their conversation, though, is Isadora. They’ve been her most consistent company this summer, but even they haven’t seen or heard much from her in the past couple weeks and are concerned. Farkle explains he heard through the grapevine that Dylan and Asher were going to try and handle it, to which Maya scrunches her face in disgust.

Maya: Tragic. Well, good luck to Izzy.

Their third wheel out of commission, Farkle attempts to plan something with Maya around his many appointments that day. But she’s distracted, totally transfixed by the possibilities of shopping, that the plans don’t go anywhere. Farkle gives up, flopping down onto his bed as he continues to listen to her marvel about how nice it is to have funds.

Speaking of a place with no shortage of funding…

EXT. HAVERFORD PREP - DAY

Riley is visibly amazed by the campus of Haverford as she makes her way towards the school. Charlie is waiting on the steps for her, jogging down to come greet her. She gives him an enthusiastic hug, immediately launching into questions about the school and its grand accommodations.

She suggests they go inside to take a look around -- he can give her a tour -- but Charlie dodges the request. He says they should walk somewhere else, get some fresh air. It’s school for him, so it’ll be nice to get away from campus for a little bit.

Riley can tell he’s being shifty about it, but she doesn’t question him, letting him lead the way. She glances back over her shoulder at the looming modern institution.

Clearly, Charlie isn’t ready to let his two worlds collide quite yet.

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

Lucas is working the counter when Isadora enters with Dylan and Asher, not displeased to see her. He greets them as cheerfully as one could expect from him, stating it’s good to see Isadora out and about. He asks what they were up to this afternoon.

Isadora: Went to the movies.

Lucas, unimpressed: The movies. You went to see a movie? [ to Dylan and Asher ] That’s your big breakout plan for Dora?

Dylan: Hey, hey, hey, all in due time, young jackasshopper. The week is just getting started.

Lucas: It’s Tuesday.

Dylan, unfazed: The week is basically just getting started. You’ve got to ease into these sorts of things. [ patting Isadora’s shoulders ] We’ll go grab a seat.

Dylan and Asher go to do just that, giving Lucas and Isadora the chance to catch up one-on-one. Lucas asks her how she’s taking being back out in the world, and she admits that Dylan is right. Something gradual like a movie was just what she needed to start, especially since the movie theater is her happy place.

Lucas: So you’re feeling good about the rest of the week?

Isadora: Oh, no, terrified. But less because of crushing social anxiety and more because of the unpredictable whimsy of Dylan Orlando.

Lucas: So more like normal, then.

Isadora: Maybe so.

Her banter is seemingly getting back in shape too. Lucas smiles lightly, telling her sincerely that he’s glad she’s out and about again. She returns the smile, weak but genuine, and saunters off to go join Dylan and Asher at a table.

Jack and Eric come through the door, shifting Lucas’s demeanor from soft to grumpy teenager in an instant. He asks what the hell they’re both doing there, showing up at his place of work unannounced. Can’t they just leave him be? Isn’t seeing him at school enough? Jack raises his eyebrows, torn between amusement and affront.

Jack: Boy, you don’t own Chubbies.

Lucas: Not yet…

Eric: [ off Jack’s eye roll, with a smile ] We’re just picking up a lunch order. We didn’t come here to spy on you.

Lucas doesn’t seem convinced, but he takes their receipt and goes to retrieve the order anyway. Eric and Jack take a look around the diner as they wait, casually waving to the assorted Adams students who greet (or gape at) them from their spots hanging out.

Jack comments that it’s good to see Isadora out, facing away from them in her booth with Dylan and Asher. He knows that Eric was worried about her. Eric claims he’s always worried about her, but he supposes that is what parenthood is supposed to be like. Just odd, considering he skipped all the other stuff before teenagedom.

Well, Jack thinks he’s doing a pretty good job. So they both had somewhat unconventional life paths… so what? Nothing wrong with that. Eric agrees, pausing before venturing the topic again of other ways they might be unconventional. Their dynamic, whatever it is… certainly not exactly a standard work relationship. But, then, no fairytale romance either. Jack agrees, vaguely, not disagreeing with the assessment that it’s a romance but not exactly saying what they are either.

He turns back to look over his shoulder towards the counter, waiting for Lucas. Eric bounces on the balls of his feet, looking at Jack, trying to find how to make him say what he wants to hear.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “What A Man Gotta Do” as performed by the Jonas Brothers || Performed by Eric Matthews (feat. Jack Hunter)

The energetic bass line floats in as Eric continues to look at Jack, launching into the song as he contemplates their relationship. While the specifics of their dynamic are unclear, there’s no question that Eric knows how he feels about Jack and what he wants from their relationship.

The first chunk of the song takes place within Chubbies, other patrons getting into the number. Jack is a participant but more in the reluctant muse variety, playing along with a bashful smirk but letting Eric do most of the performing. The dancing takes on a kind of sockhop ‘50s energy, bouncy and full of spunk.

INT. AAA - DAY

Throughout the second verse and chorus, we’re back at AAA, Eric continuing the serenade while he and Jack walk through various parts of the school doing their inspection. In the halls, in the auditorium, up on the catwalk, doesn’t matter -- Jack has his undivided attention, but the work at hand not so much.

INT. AAA - CAFETERIA - DAY

They conclude their walkabout in the cafeteria, Eric hopping onto the tables and really digging into his ballad. Jack chides at him and pulls him down off the tables -- health and safety hazard, come on! -- but that’s an excuse for Eric to drag him into the dance. The two of them do a little jig of their own across the cafeteria…

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

Intercut with the number still going on at Chubbies. The dancing is much more impressive from the younger, more skilled cast members in the diner, doing lifts and flips and such, but Jack and Eric have no trouble maintaining the center of attention.

As the song comes to an end, they resume their former place at the counter before the number began. They settle back into nonchalance, as if the song never happened, the diner patrons back milling about and in their respective booths. Being the first performance in the space, it proves that Chubbies acts as sort of a liminal performance space -- not everything that occurs in the space is necessarily reality, when it comes to singing and dancing.

And that’s for the best, at least for Lucas. He returns moments later, spared the imaginary musical theatrics, and hands over their order. Jack hands over a few bills, tipping him nicely.

Lucas, pridefully: I don’t want this.

Jack: Yes, you do.

Eric: Consider it a down payment for dinner tomorrow.

Well, with that logic… fine. Lucas makes a face and pockets the money, dropping one of the bills in the jar for the cooks. Suffice to say, Lucas’s relationship with money -- and who’s giving it to him -- is complicated at best.

EXT. CENTRAL PARK - DAY

Riley and Charlie have found a place to settle, a picnic table in the beautiful and scenic Central Park. He’s catching her up on how Haverford is going, selling it a little too keenly to be entirely genuine. He quickly shifts the focus off him, asking how everyone is doing in their last week of summer before classes start at AAA.

Riley gives him the short version of how everyone is doing, from Farkle’s medical stuff to Isadora’s grieving to her and Lucas’s slight trouble yesterday morning.

Charlie: Oh, so that’s why you had time to come hang out with me…

She glares at him, kicking him playfully. He grins, and she tells him that it’s already weird without him being on the same schedule as them. It’s going to be odd, not having him there. She reaches out, touching his hand.

Riley: We miss you.

Charlie: … I miss you guys, too.

Still, he claims it’s going to be okay. How things are is for the best. Sure, Riley says… and anyway, just because he’s at a new school doesn’t mean he has to disappear from their lives. He can still see them, he’s still part of their family. In fact, he should come see West Side Story this Saturday.

This, Charlie is less able to gloss over with a smile. He falters, murmuring that he doesn’t know if that’s the best idea. Riley frowns, not allowing him to brush her off.

Riley: Charlie. [ waiting for him to meet her eyes ] Have you gone to see it at all? It’s a really good production.

Charlie: Yeah, I know --

Riley: I know that you and Zay aren’t… I know things are off because of how you… how things ended last year. I know you’re not how you were, but you’re still… I mean, you’re still friends, aren’t you? I think he would want you to be there. To just ghost --

Charlie: Okay, okay! Riley, you can ease off. I’ll… I’ll think about it.

Not a guarantee, but better than nothing. Riley lets it go, for now.

INT. THERAPIST’S OFFICE - DAY

Farkle is meeting with his therapist, DR. MICHELLE HAN. They discuss the phenomenal progress he’s made in just the last few months, and how while there’s still plenty of work to go, it’s good that his suicidal ideation doesn’t seem to have made a comeback.

Farkle: Yeah, I think a good diet of making jokes about it whenever possible keeps it in check. Self-prescribed.

Dr. Han is used to his quips, so she merely smiles as she writes off the comment. They swap to discussing the progress of his treatment plans, and that the next stage is upping the dosage of the current antidepressant he’s on. Ideally, this should more regulate his mood and keep him from having those dips that he’s suffered from throughout the summer.

Farkle bluntly comments there’s nothing else to do but try, and though it’s said flatly, Dr. Han agrees. She reminds him that mental health is an imperfect, trial-by-error process, and they’ll take each development as it comes. Farkle nods, committed to it in spite of his pithy commentary and jokes.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

Jack and Eric emerge from the front office, disappointed but not surprised to see that it’s dark outside. Their ability to stay well past a normal hour is truly astounding… but in this case, it makes sense. They both want Adams to be in the best shape it can possibly be, so the work is worth it.

After their thorough examination and enumeration of everything they need to do today, though, they’re on the right track. For their own mental well-being, Eric suggests they should do their best the next few days to get out of there before nightfall. If that means scheduling other things -- like dinners with the kiddos, for instance -- then so be it. Anything to get them out of there.

Jack agrees as they head towards the doors, pointing out they should make a pact then and there not to come in on the weekend. They will do their work during this week, as your average employee would, and then they will put up the healthy wall of distance. No coming in on Saturday or Sunday to do last-minute tidying or search for more problems to solve. They are going to be strong, independent men away from their disaster school.

Eric can fancy that. The two of them shake on it, a bit cheeky, before they push out the doors and into the humid August evening.

INT. HAVERFORD PREP - STUDENT LOUNGE - DAY

The next morning, Charlie gets more formally introduced to some of his fellow Haverford classmates when he checks out the senior student lounge. This includes BILLY ROSS (18), EVAN SCOTT (17), and DWIGHT “DWEEZIL” HOWARD (16), whom everyone affectionately refers to as Dweezil.

They’re all cute, charming, and well-groomed. Billy carries some of the signature aloof coolness of Zay or Nigel, while Dweezil could be a distant cousin of Dylan, only blonde and far more reserved. Evan is the most similar to Charlie himself, soft-spoken but pleasant and clever.

For what it’s worth, they’re nice, too. They show genuine interest in getting to know Charlie, asking him about what he likes about Haverford so far and what he misses about Adams. Billy seems particularly interested in Adams, wanting to know what their main rival is like within the stone walls. Charlie ducks talking about AAA, instead turning the conversation back to them.

Evan says that a bunch of them are going to hang out at Dweezil’s place after school today, and Charlie should definitely come. He thanks them for the offer, and is totally interested, but actually today won’t work. He already has plans.

Billy: Ooh, plans. You got someone we might wanna know about, Charlie?

Dweezil: I saw you talking to that brunette before lunch yesterday. She’s cute.

Ooh, a girl. Charlie laughs awkwardly, stating it’s not like that. The friend, or the person he has to see today. But it’s important, something he can’t miss.

Oh, well. Another time then. Charlie lets the conversation shift off of him, happy to be included but comfortably in the background again.

INT. SHOPPING MALL - DAY

Maya and Riley are out shopping, walking the spacious atrium of a mall out in the suburbs outside the city. Maya comments they would’ve had more fun walking 5th Avenue.

Riley: Yeah, okay, we’re not broke, but we’re not working with that much money.

Besides, as she claims, there’s more variety and flexibility at a mall like this. More options, and easily accessible. They’ll be able to find everything they need.

That, Maya can second. She pauses outside a cute boutique with chic clothes in the window, claiming that if they spend wisely, they can get more than just new room decor. Wouldn’t it be nice to have some new threads before the school year starts?

Riley hesitantly agrees, but she knows they have to be cautious with their funds. She tries to find a way to trick Maya out of her interest, offering up a challenge. Sure, they can shop for clothes too -- but then both of them get to pick an outfit for the other person. And the other has to wear it on the first day of school, no arguments.

Riley’s mistake was forgetting that Maya loves a juicy challenge. She eagerly accepts, stating she is going to find the perfect thing for Riley to wear on the first day as she flurries into the store. Riley grimaces, chasing after her.

Maya: You’re so on, Matthews. Let’s shop.

Riley, nervously: Wait, okay, maybe let’s set some ground rules --

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Isadora is trailing behind Dylan and Asher as they make their way through AAA’s neighborhood, asking them where the hell they’re headed. Dylan deftly dodges her question with vague non-answers, to the amusement of Asher and chagrin of Isadora.

Dylan: Are any of us really headed anywhere? Are we not, at the end of the day, all headed to the same thing?

Isadora: Thanks, Dyl Pickle. That’s what the girl with the dead mom wants to hear.

Dylan: Oh, no no, you’re mistaken. I’ll never die.

Bewildering, but classically, Dylan offers no elaboration on that bold comment. He grins wider as he spots what he’s looking for, arriving in an outdoor pavilion area and greeting some additional members to their party.

It’s the techie crew, back in action. JADE BEAMON, NATE MARTINEZ, JEFF MONROE, and DAVE WILLIAMS are waiting around for them, happily greeting Isadora when they see her approaching with Dylan and Asher. They claim it’s great to see her, and Isadora accepts a gentle hug from Jade.

Isadora: You’re not all just waiting around here for me, are you?

Nate: Uh, yeah. That’s what Dylan told us to do.

Jeff: We’re just happy to see you. And it’s nice to get the whole gang back together before we’re back in that performance prison for one more year.

Dave: Well, not Lucas.

Jade: No, of course not. Because --

All, mockingly: “He has to work.”

Though she’s still uncertain, and doesn’t know if their dynamic is going to quite be the same, Isadora is already smiling again. The energy of the techie crew, her original crew, is infectious, and it’s good to be around them again. She turns the question to Dylan and Asher, asking if they thought this would be some magical serotonin cure-all.

Dylan: Maybe. Is it working?

Asher: We wanted to show you that even when you disappear for a while, your crew is going to be here when you’re ready to reemerge. You’re not going back into the jungle alone.

Jeff: Bet.

Isadora: Even after last year? Everything wasn’t exactly picture perfect before Hurricane Val wiped everything else off my mental map.

Jade: I mean, no, things aren’t going to be exactly the same, but that doesn’t mean we’re gone for good.

Dave: Once a techie, always a techie.

And that’s exactly the message Dylan wanted to be clear. And in case it wasn’t, well, there’s an easy way to remedy that.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Jet Song” as performed by West Side Story Original Cast Recording || Performed by AAA Senior Techies

[ Lyrics specific to characters. Follow along here! ]

Dylan takes the Riff lead, kicking off the song with enthusiasm. Every “Jet” is smoothly replaced with “Tech.” When he refers to having “brothers around,” he loops an arm around Jeff and Nate and pulls them close in a hug. Asher takes over from there, the two of them passing the first verse back and forth.

Then the crew of them take off, marching through the pavilion as a group. While the orchestra vamps Dylan leads the group with Isadora, explaining his plan that they’re all going to go to Zay’s final performance Saturday night. Jade snorts at the idea that Lucas would go anywhere, let alone a theater; Nate points out that Zay is a performer, and they’ve never especially stepped up to support performers.

Dylan: Nate, the era of divisions is past. There’s no techies, no performers. Just senior A class, baby!

Dave: Great, daddio.

Asher: So listen -- [ as the group huddles ] Everybody dress up sweet and sharp. Meet me, Isa, and Dyl at the theater before 7. And walk tall!

Jeff: We always walk tall!

Jade: We’re techs!

Nate: The greatest!

From there, the techie tots take over, taking to the streets and jumping around together. Jeff and Nate are carrying most of the vocals, but as an ensemble, they all sound pretty decent. Thankfully, the Jets weren’t the most perfectly harmonious performers either. Yeah!

EXT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY

Charlie is seated alone at a table on the patio, at an unfamiliar coffee shop, tapping his fingers nervously against the tabletop. The rhythm is intrinsic, like a waltz, counts of three over and over to keep him grounded while he waits for his expected company. The lemonade he ordered sits untouched in front of him.

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait much longer. His eyes widen when he spots her, his internal metronome freezing on the downbeat.

BRIDGETTE GARDNER (21). She’s thin and waifish, pretty like her siblings with thick dark hair and attractive bone structure. But that’s where the resemblance stops, as her demeanor is nowhere near as palatable and pleasant as her brother. She’s dressed in dark hues, light crocheted cardigan hanging down around her elbows and exposing her shoulders under her black tank top. Her eyeliner is bold around her bright blue eyes, icy and sharp and heavy with something. Like knowledge, like she already knows everything there is to know, has seen all the truth that there is to see.

To Charlie, though, she’s just his big sister. The big sister he hasn’t seen in years, scrubbed out of his family history like an ink stain.

He rises to his feet as she hesitates, slowing her approach. Finally, they’re in front of one another, not sure what to say. Not smiling—Charlie in shock, Bridgette out of defensive precaution.

Then, Charlie moves, pulling her into an embrace without a word. He lets out a sigh, holding her tighter. Saying all the soft, vulnerable things without saying anything at all.

Bridgette tenses, then slowly lifts her arms to return the hug.

INT. ANIMAL SHELTER - DAY

Riley and Lucas are working side-by-side at the shelter, both clad in their dark green volunteer shirts. They’re cleaning out cat cages and feeding them as they go, moving with precision that indicates they’ve done this routine before. Volunteering there together isn’t a new thing for them.

As charitable as that is, Lucas can’t help but point out it doesn’t exactly abide by Cory’s demands. In fact, they’ve seen an awful lot of each other for two people who are forbidden from interacting for the week.

Riley: I don’t see why the good animals of Manhattan should have to suffer for my misdeeds. It would be irresponsible, nay, an injustice, if I were to shirk my volunteer duties simply because we happen to work shifts at the same time.

Lucas: Someone is getting real good at finding loopholes. [ granting her a smirk ] I’m so proud.

Riley beams, shrugging her shoulders flirtatiously. She goes on to tell him about how redecorating is going, explaining the challenge she and Maya made about getting to dress the other for the first day. Lucas cringes, though whether it’s because of Maya or because he’s cleaning a litterbox isn’t totally clear.

Lucas: I like you, Riley, but I think I’ll have to cut my eyes out if you show up to school looking like a mini-Maya. Isadora last year was terrorizing enough.

Riley: [ with an eye roll ] We’re not dressing like each other, we’re just picking for each other. Forces us to try something new, embrace a little change. Might as well start the year that way, since senior year is guaranteed to have a lot of it.

Yeah, to that point… Riley starts to ask if Lucas has thought at all about what his college application plans are yet. She knows she wants to apply to Barnard, a local all-women highly-ranked liberal arts college. And she’s thinking about performing programs, but then maybe not. Lucas seems hesitant to answer, but he’s saved by a VET TECH employee poking her head out from the back room.

Vet Tech: Lucas, you got a minute to give us a hand? Lil’ Nat needs shots again, and you’re the only one who can get her to sit still long enough without traumatizing the poor thing.

Lucas: Yeah, sure. I’m just about finished here.

Vet Tech: Awesome. We’re just in the back when you’re ready. [ to Riley ] I tell you, your friend’s got the magic touch.

Riley: Oh, believe me, I’m very aware.

Lucas cuts Riley a look, which she matches with an innocent smile. Once the tech is gone, Riley watches Lucas scoop up the cat whose cage he was cleaning and lock it back up properly.

Riley: You know, seems like you’ve got a thing for this. Working with animals. Maybe like… a talent?

Lucas brushes her off, especially the teasing nature of discussing “talent” when they know he has none, but Riley isn’t actually kidding. She watches him thoughtfully as he jogs to the back room, only turning her attention back to the task at hand when the cat in the cage she’s tending to headbutts her affectionately.

EXT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY

Bridgette is now seated opposite Charlie, some of the ice broken between them. She’s finishing up explaining why their reunion had to wait so long when he reached out in June and it’s now almost September — she was abroad in Europe.

Bridgette: Take it from me, everyone should travel somewhere new at least once. Get a new perspective, see something they’ve never seen before. Illuminating, really.

Charlie pauses trying to process her actually being there, what she’s like now versus how he remembers her, to ask the obvious question — how did she afford to do that? There’s no way she had the money on her own after whatever happened with mom and dad.

Bridgette: Family outcast rule number 1. Make rich friends.

And, as she goes on to explain, their great aunt Mary helped fund her voyage. This is shocking to Charlie, as she’s as devout as Eleanor if not more, but Bridgette explains that’s exactly why she did it.

Bridgette: I think she saw it like the ultimate good deed, like missionary work at home. Like if she helped me go abroad, explore something new, the journey would take me straight to Jesus and I’d be born again. Then I’d come crying back to her, so grateful, so happy I’d found the Lord again and that she helped me achieve it. And I’d come back home, we’d be a perfect happy Gardner unit again, and she would get all the sainthood credit of bringing our devious defective Bridgette back from Satan’s fiery hold. [ a beat ] Obviously, that didn’t happen, but I ate a lot of hellishly good food.

It takes some adjusting, hearing someone from his family speak so uncharacteristically heathen-like. Zay, sure, but a Gardner? Charlie uses the opportunity to broach the topic of their family and her banishment, trying to get to the bottom of what happened.

Bridgette: It’s okay, Chuckles. You can ask me direct. Neither of us are going to burn up in hellfire. I cast a protective charm over us when I sat down.

[ Charlie blinks, uncertain. Bridgette gives him a look. ]

Bridgette: That was a joke. Come on, I’m just the exile, not back from the dead. You can laugh a little bit, buddy.

Charlie: Sorry. Sorry, it’s just, um… a lot. And you’re… it’s just been…

Bridgette: I know. Been a while since I’ve seen you, too, you know. Last I remember, you were two inches shorter with an even worse haircut. Might’ve still had braces too, though maybe it’s just all running together.

Comment about his hair aside, Charlie asks again what the heck even happened. Bridgette is surprised Eleanor never told them, as she thought she would’ve used it as a lesson. Made a big example, or whatever. Charlie claims the mystery and finality of her disappearance was deterrent enough, from any and all things. Maybe vagueness was more effective after all. Bridgette shakes her head, crossing her arms and taking a moment before meeting his eyes.

Bridgette: You really wanna know what I did? Brace yourself, it’s downright damning. [ bluntly ] I had sex.

Charlie stares at her, waiting for more. There isn’t. Bridgtte senses his uncertainty.

Bridgette: That’s right. I’m a dirty little sinner, because I had sex before marriage. Like damn Eve in the garden of Eden, just too curious with my devilish womanhood. But that wasn’t even my mistake, you know. I could’ve done it, and done it as much as I wanted, and gotten away with it. Mom and dad are intimidating, but they’re not all-knowing. They would’ve never known any better. No, my fatal error was telling mom the truth. I thought, okay, I did this, but mom loves me. She’ll help me out of it, figure out how to turn those feelings off, or at least set me up so that I could explore safely. I think that’s what I wanted, really, but I should’ve known that would never be an option. I didn’t get that far, anyway.

As she recounts it, their discussion after her confession didn’t last long. Eleanor was disappointed, disgusted even, and the only way she would “help” her would be to take her out of college and ship her off to Bible college. There, she could be under watchful eyes, and work through prayer and therapies toward rehabilitation with God. Bridgette said fuck that, and Eleanor claimed if she wasn’t going to fix it, she wouldn’t do it under their roof. So, she left.

Charlie shakes his head, struggling to grapple with it all. He supposes he knew, to some degree, always figured what must’ve happened. But it’s hard to reconcile, to work through, when he still knows his mother as loving and supportive and wanting the best for him. Conditionally, maybe, but that’s not nothing.

But he thanks Bridgette for sharing the truth with him. And for showing up at all when he reached out. She didn’t have to do that — he did nothing to help her either, so she could’ve easily just ignored him and kept the embargo going. She had every right.

Bridgette: Charlie, it’s not your job to show up for me. Least of all when you didn’t even know. You’re my little brother, not a saint.

[ Charlie lets that sink in. Bridgette shrugs, slouching more comfortably now that her secrets are out. ]

Bridgette: Besides, I figured if you were reaching out to me, there had to be a reason. You wouldn’t be sneaking around trying to connect with me if there weren’t some motivation pushing you to it.

Charlie: Couldn’t it just be brotherly love?

Bridgette: It could. But I’m not naive enough to believe it’s that simple.

They hold eye contact, Bridgette arching an eyebrow. Her icy eyes see right through him. So?

Charlie takes a deep breath, looking down at the table. He struggles through articulating that she’s not the only one with secrets, that he needed to see that even after her exodus she was still surviving. To see that there’s a life beyond their perfect house, just in case, because he’s more and more aware of the risk.

Charlie: I’m never going to be the ideal son mom and dad want me to be. I can’t be. I’m not going to be the honorable man with the beautiful wife and perfect kids and radiant sense of blessed peace. I’m not going to have any of that. And I tried, I mean, I thought for so long maybe I could. I just hadn’t unlocked it, hadn’t figured out what was missing, but I know that’s not how it works now. I know who I am, and it’s not that. I’m never going to have a beautiful wife.

[ Bridgette waits patiently. Charlie chokes on the thought and clears his throat, centering himself before he tries again. He meets her eyes. ]

Charlie: I’m gay. I don’t like… I couldn’t… [ sighing ] I’m gay.

The sentiment hangs in the air between them, Charlie’s first intentional coming out. Bridgette doesn’t seem at all surprised, or affected, maintaining her calm demeanor.

Bridgette: Okay. Good for you, Charlie. Thanks for telling me.

Not nearly as dramatic as he imagined. But maybe it’s better that way. Charlie nods, catching his breath. Bridgette goes on to point out that sinning aside, he’s already smarter than she was as he clearly has not told their parents. As long as he doesn’t do that, then he’ll be fine, at least as long as he can handle the guilt.

Bridgette: And who knows? Maybe they'll surprise you. Maybe mom will be like one of those Catholics who takes pity on the gays, those poor sinners who can’t help themselves. So long as you don’t do something truly sinful and unforgivable, you know, like sex before marriage —

Charlie grimaces and then whines, dropping his head on his arms on the tabletop. Bridgette pauses, clocking his dramatic reaction, then bursts into laughter. Oh, Chuckles, Chuckles, Chuckles…

INT. MINKUS HOME - NIGHT

Farkle and Jennifer return from another day of doctoring, the former obviously exhausted. EZRA MINKUS rushes out to greet him with a hug, telling him he missed him all day.

STUART MINKUS emerges from his back office as well, greeting them cheerfully and asking how everything went. Jennifer lauds Farkle’s improvement according to the doctors, and then the both of them begin asking Farkle a bunch of questions while Ezra barrels him with details about his day. How is he feeling? What does he feel like for dinner — they could order his favorite? Is he able to play now that he’s not sick? Frankly, Farkle has had enough prodding for a lifetime, mental or otherwise.

Farkle, waspish: What I’m feeling is that I would like five minutes of a little peace and quiet! Alone!

He marches out of the room, retreating to his room and slamming the door. Ezra asks if he made Farkle mad, but Stuart assures him it wasn’t his fault. They’re all understanding. It’s just… tough right now.

INT. MINKUS HOME - FARKLE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Farkle reclines against his door, releasing a sigh. Solitude is nice, and needed, but it doesn’t make him feel all that better. He doesn’t like feeling so moody, snapping at his family, being on knife’s edge. He misses when things were normal, or at least, he thought they were. Recovery is crucial, but he didn’t expect it to be so damn exhausting.

He collapses onto his bed with a flop, the sonic pop beat dropping just as he does…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “In My Bed” as performed by Sabrina Carpenter || Performed by Farkle Minkus

Farkle starts the performance sideways on his bed, the camera moving in odd angles with him as he dramatically rolls around in theatrics. He also moves around his room and plays with the scenery, leaning into the melodramatic anguish yet skillfully contrasted with the somewhat flat delivery of the vocals.

INT. DOCTOR’S OFFICES - DAY

The other part of the number is split in and out of doctor’s offices, Farkle basically floating through the scenery as different physicians and experts poke and prod and question him. He lets it all happen without comment, like a specimen under a microscope, staring blankly at the camera to convey his exhaustion while he sings.

INT. MINKUS HOME - FARKLE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Then, he concludes the song back in his room, flopping backwards onto his bed on the last “I’m still in my bed.”

INT. RESTAURANT - NIGHT

As promised, Jack and Eric are having dinner with Lucas and Isadora, the teens opposite them in a booth. Though the gathering is far from conventional — principal, counselor, adoptee, and delinquent — the dynamic amongst them is comfortable and casual. It’s clear they’ve done this multiple times before.

Isadora asks Jack and Eric how the inspection is going, if they think they’ll have to do a lot of work before the school year starts. Lucas asks for elaboration, like if they’ve learned anything about the hack coming into admin or what his game is. Jack cautions against writing the new colleague off as a hack from the get-go, to which Lucas rolls his eyes. Eric assures them they’ve got everything under control, and he’s feeling confident things will go off swimmingly.

Lucas, flatly: Someone should be.

He swipes a fry off Isadora’s plate, causing her to elbow him in the side. He’s got his own food, doesn’t he? Jackass. Lucas grins, chewing his stolen French fry pointedly. Eric watches them in amusement, Jack commenting that’s as good a time as any to grab the check. He gets up to go pay, leaving Eric to temper Lucas and Isadora’s sibling-like bickering.

As Jack pays the bill, the WAITRESS working the register casts a glance towards their unusual table. Though, to her, it clearly doesn’t seem so odd. She smiles.

Waitress: Cute family.

Jack opens his mouth to correct her, but something stops him. Instead he glances at them, then back to her, retrieving his credit card.

Jack: Thank you.

She tells him he’s good to go. As Jack puts his card back into his wallet, he watches his “family” far afar, fondness written all over his face.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - DAY

The room is in the midst of a makeover, Riley and Maya moving things around while they add their new decor to the space. It’s already got a little more pizazz, but still has a ways to go.

Maya is doing more directing than helping, distracted by their clothes haul and eager to get to trying stuff on. Riley drags her away from the bags, reminding her that once they get their room in shape, then they can see what torture they have in store for each other.

Maya: Ye of little faith…

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

Lucas is bussing a vacated table when Farkle hurricanes through the doors in a huff. It’s clear he’s frazzled, fidgety as he spots Lucas.

Farkle: You’re here.

Lucas, bluntly: Yeah. I work here.

Farkle: Oh, right. Weird.

Lucas: Sure, I’m the weird one…

Lucas starts heading back behind the counter with the bin of dishes, Farkle trailing along behind him. He asks if Riley is here, to which Lucas tells him he can look around and answer that for himself.

That’s obviously not what Farkle wants to hear. He runs a hand through his hair, smacking a hand down on the countertop.

Farkle: I swear, I’m losing my mind. Not that I had much of one to begin with, but if I have to spend one more day in a doctor’s office or in that stupid penthouse suite I really think I might kill someone.

Lucas just looks at him, slightly judgmental, clearly wondering why the hell he has to be the one stuck listening to this tirade. But Farkle is not deterred, continuing on about how he’s sick of being monitored and babied and so heavily in control it’s like he’s spiraling out of it in spite. It’s suffocating, and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to fix it when the stuff that fixes it is what is making him insane. He feels crazy. He feels absolutely deranged. After a certain amount of melodrama, Lucas snaps.

Lucas: Oh my God, enough!

He walks away from the counter, his disappearance just enough to stun Farkle into silence. He reappears a few moments later though, peeling off his apron and hanging it behind the counter. He heads towards the door, gesturing brusquely for Farkle to follow.

Lucas: Come on, move it. Let’s go.

Farkle: What? Where are we going?

Lucas stops, meeting his eyes with a sharp glare. It’s not the least bit encouraging.

Lucas, shortly: We’re fixing it.

Then he pushes out the door, not waiting up. Scary prospects, and Lucas has never been a friend to Farkle. But his curiosity is piqued, it’s a distraction from the… everything else, and well, he’s always had a little bit of a fear kink.

Farkle jogs out after him.

EXT. SKATE PARK - DAY

Dylan and Isadora are making their way down the street, Isadora once again unsure where they’re going. She also asks where Asher is, as it’s just the two of them that afternoon. Dylan explains that he got Riley to pull a favor for him with Zay, but doesn’t elaborate. He’ll catch up with them later. Isadora gets distracted before she can question further, as they arrive at their destination.

The local skate park. Bustling with teens on a Friday afternoon, full of life and energy. It’s clearly Dylan’s turf, a few other skaters shouting greetings at him that he returns with a wave.

Isadora, on the other hand, is not enthused. She’s like oh no way and starts to turn around but Dylan pulls her back, encouraging her to just give it a try. She points out that she has never skated in her life, but he claims that doesn’t matter. As he goes on to say, when he first started out he didn’t know what he was doing either. But it’s freeing, it clears his mind, and she has to admit the two of them have more in common mentally than one would think at first glance.

Dylan: When I started skating, I fell all the time. Got banged up and bruised and scraped, even in places I didn’t know could scrape.

Isadora: Oh, nice. Very encouraging, thank you.

Dylan: But I got back up. Every time. Right now, you’ve been knocked down and banged up and scraped. [ holding out his board ] It’s time to get back up.

He holds her gaze, putting the ball in her court. Isadora hesitates, looking at the board… then takes it with a sigh.

Isadora: Might as well try.

Dylan grins and bounces on his feet, eagerly finding a place for them to practice. He helps her get on the board and then lets her use him as a way to steady herself, until slowly they start moving in one direction. Just when it seems like she’s got the gist, and Dylan lets her go, she speeds up a bit… and wipes out, unable to stop and falling off the board as it keeps going and rams into the chain-link fence.

Dylan: Oh, yikes --

Dylan jogs over, asking if she’s okay. But she’s merely laughing, falling onto her back and cackling uncontrollably. Once she manages to calm to a giggle, she accepts his help to climb back to her feet. She seems energized for the first time all week, expression bright.

Isadora: Let’s try again.

Dylan beams, nodding. The two of them jog to grab the skateboard.

INT. WEST SIDE THEATER - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Zay pushes open the door from the hall, entering with Asher following tentatively behind him. He has the same awe as Yindra and Nigel as he gets to walk around a real production, though his is also sprinkled with his usual amount of nerves.

Asher: Again, if this is a bother, any burden at all, you really don’t have to show me --

Zay: Well, you’re already here so. [ patting his shoulder ] Let’s enjoy it, yeah?

Clearly, Zay has experience dealing with people riddled with anxiety. Still, it works, Asher nodding and following him onto the stage. Zay smiles, telling him he’ll really want to see this, before showing him the full set for the show. Mainly, he thinks the movable set piece that has the fire escape on it is the coolest. Asher marvels at it as Zay climbs around, pulling himself up to sit on the base of the metal.

Asher: Seems sturdy. Good structural design. It would be nice if we could figure out that balance at Triple A -- we usually have to sacrifice style for functionality.

Zay: I wouldn’t call your sets unstylish, Garcia. But anyway, still have one more year to try. And it would probably help if we could have a set that didn’t get vandalized three-fourths into our production.

Touché. Asher continues to walk around the set pieces, getting a good look. Zay states that he likes hanging out on the fire escape since he doesn’t get to spend much time on it during the show -- it’s reserved for Tony and Maria. But off the clock, well, he can do whatever he wants. Just as he’s declaring this independent take, his director steps onto the stage with the stage manager, discussing the show.

Zay hops down from the set quickly, the director cheerfully greeting him but asking what he’s doing there so early. He doesn’t have call time for another couple hours. He coolly explains that he’s showing a friend around, finding Asher hiding behind the set piece and lightly yanking him out to come introduce himself. Asher’s instinct to be professional and polite takes over, making a good impression as he shakes her hand.

Zay: If you’re looking for a production designer in a couple years, look no further. Asher has been creating killer sets and designs for our productions at Adams for four years.

Asher: Oh, well, I don’t know if --

Zay: It’s true. I showed you those photos from our production of Les Mis? This guy, right here.

The director seems suitably impressed, commending Asher for his eye. Asher awkwardly brushes it off, overwhelmed by the praise, claiming it was just as much the effort of his fellow technicians to bring it to life that pulled it off. The director is pleased by that humble reaction, stating it was a pleasant surprise to meet him and telling Zay she’ll see him later before sauntering off with the manager.

Zay: Just got you your first post-grad job, I bet. You’re welcome.

Asher shakes his head. He asks how Zay like… does that all the time, just confidently sells himself with no reservations. Doesn’t he feel weird, bragging like that?

Zay: Well, it’s not bragging when it’s true. I’d argue it’s equally bad to sell yourself so short no one ever even knows you’re there.

Asher: I guess that’s true.

Zay: And why shouldn’t we sell ourselves? Isn’t this the time to do so? Especially when we have the talent, when we deserve it? We’ve got one more year in school, and then after that it’s a whole new world. I don’t know about you, but I’m going in strong.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “ROYL” as performed by Chloe x Halle || Performed by Zay Babineaux, Asher Garcia, Maya Hart, Riley Matthews, Isadora De La Cruz, and Dylan Orlando

Zay leads us into the boppy fun pop track, highlighting the theme for the episode as well as the season as a whole. It’s time to live their lives, spread their wings and fly, and if that includes being a little glamorous and daring, then so be it!

He manages to pull Asher into it within the first verse, the two of them spending the rest of the number strutting through the backstage areas and chewing up the scenery. Though they’re not the only two working the number…

EXT. SKATE PARK - DAY

Dylan and Isadora have their time to jam, boasting the coolest setting as their backdrop. They harmonize and goof off while skaters do impressive tricks around them. Talk about living on the edge and spreading your wings!

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - DAY

And Riley and Maya share the sequence as well, grooving and vocalizing while decorating the room. It makes great strides over the course of the song, both of them collapsing onto their beds with a flourish when they’re done.

Just as an explosive goes off --

EXT. OUTDOOR HIDEOUT - DAY

The boom is a firework, Lucas back to his old tricks of setting off explosives. Only this time, it’s a charitable act, as he’s showing Farkle how to do it in an effort to relieve some of his tightly wound stress. It seems to be working, Farkle laughing hysterically as they set another off and let it go zooming off into the sky. He says this is the best afternoon he’s had in weeks.

Lucas: That’s pathetic. But you’re welcome. Just… don’t tell Riley.

Legal? Questionable. But fun? Yes. And seemingly exactly what Farkle needed. He’s got new life in him now, looking towards Lucas as he grabs another bottle rocket and starts to expertly set it up. When he rises to his feet, Farkle speaks.

Farkle: I misjudged you.

The conversation takes on a slightly serious tone, Farkle explaining that he spent so much time deriding Lucas and judging him and purposefully trying to drive him crazy when he honestly didn’t even really know him. And some of the stuff he did to him, the way he behaved… it wasn’t right. So he hopes, like he said last year, that they can move past it.

Lucas is obviously a bit uncomfortable with the vulnerability, but not opposed to the idea of a truce. He avoids eye contact, shrugging.

Lucas: Well, it’s not like I was an angel towards you either… [ glancing at him ] Guess we can call it even.

Sounds good to Farkle. He nods, agreeing. Then Lucas gives him the lighter to do the honors, Farkle dropping down excitedly and flicking on the flame. As he lights the next fuse…

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - DAY

Maya is looking not quite like a firecracker, good-looking as always but out of her element in the outfit Riley chose for her. She’s sporting a sleek cotton turtleneck and tight-fitting gold plaid pants that cinch at her waist. She looks good, it’s just not what she would’ve envisioned. She frowns slightly as she nitpicks at her reflection, telling Riley to hurry up in the restroom. She wants to see her grand vision in action.

And see it she does. Riley emerges from the bathroom, dressed in a black Bardot dress with an open back and exposed skin on her torso where the chest of the dress cinches into a delicate bow. Maya has paired the look with tie-up knee-high boots. To be blunt, she looks hot as hell, but it’s way bolder than Riley would ever be on her own. She doesn’t quite know how to carry herself in it, making herself smaller as she comes to stand in front of the full-length mirror with Maya.

Maya, whistling: Now that’s what I’m talking about, Riles. Bang bang.

Riley: I don’t know. It feels a little… I mean, don’t you think --

Maya: What I think is that if you carry yourself properly, you’ll look slamming.

She makes subtle adjustments to Riley’s posture in the mirror -- standing up straight, lifting her chin, taking a power stance rather than trying to remain unassuming. And to her credit, Maya is right. Riley does look awesome, especially when she holds herself the way she should. And it still feels like her, too, somehow. Just Riley Matthews with the volume turned up. Maya grins at their reflection, proud of her work.

Maya: You’ve got this in you all the time -- every woman does. It’s part of our natural superior power. Maybe it’s time to let this you take control for a while.

Maybe Maya, scarily, has a point… and she does look damn good…

Maya: You know, rather than being a doormat who defers to everyone else all the time. Just an idea. Especially when you look hot!

Okay, less encouraging. Riley shoots her a glare at that comment, but even when Maya walks away her point remains. Riley contemplates, looking at her empowered reflection.

EXT. SKATE PARK - DAY

Asher arrives at the skate park, finding Isadora sitting on the concrete benches. He plops down next to her with a greeting, asking why she’s just there by herself. Isadora shrugs like it’s no big deal, claiming she wanted to set Dylan free for a bit to have fun on his own terms. She doesn’t mind. It’s fun to just watch him.

And he clearly is having fun. He’s laughing with other skaters and working out some tricks of his own, bright and social as ever. When he does a kick-flip and lands it with a flourish, Isadora comments that he’s gotten really good at skating.

Asher: Yeah. Wasn’t always though. First time he brought me here, he basically face-planted and I had to patch up his wounds.

Isadora: Well, that’s why you’re good together, isn’t it? Balancing each other out.

Asher: Guess so. Friends are like that, too, though. Patch you up when you fall.

Yeah, if they’ve proven anything this week, it would be that. Isadora meets his eyes, offering a small smile that he easily returns. Grateful for his time and effort, even if she doesn’t have the words to articulate it. Asher isn’t going to push her, not one for big emotional speeches either.

And thankfully, they have the best distraction there is to focus on instead. Dylan preps to ride the half-pipe, looking over his shoulder and spotting the two of them. He notices that Asher has joined them, grinning wider. He blows a kiss towards them, then tips off the side and into the rush of the ride.

INT. WEST SIDE THEATER - DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

It’s Saturday night, and Zay’s final performance in West Side Story. He’s backstage getting ready when Yindra and Nigel are allowed backstage to visit, exchanging cool nods with a couple of the other performers before rushing over to him. Nigel asks Zay for a big favor, to which he raises his eyebrows.

Zay: Depends. How big is this favor?

Nigel: … so the techies are here tonight, and Jade is with them, but she said she’d be just as happy sitting with me and Yindra. So then I mentioned how you took us backstage the other day, and how cool that was, and then I said maybe you could do the same for her. At least to see the costumes. Man, if I could get Jade back here to see actual Broadway --

Yindra, helpfully: Off-Broadway…

Nigel: -- level costumes, she would think it was so cool. Please, can she come backstage after the show? Please. Please?

Zay: Alright, alright! You can bring her back here, Shakespeare-in-love. You’ll just have to wait until we’re done with post-show notes so I can say bye to everyone.

Nigel lightly pumps his fist. Score. Yindra shakes her head at his ridiculousness, obviously well used to his Jade-related monologues by now.

Suddenly, the director flurries into the dressing room in a full state. When the actors ask what the hell is wrong, she informs them that their Tony has succumbed to his illness. He’s not going to be able to make the show.

Actor 1: Succumbed? Is he dead?

Actor 2: His cold? He’s been working through it all week!

Director: Yes, well, now it’s pneumonia. Our Tony has pneumonia, his understudy is out of state, and we are royally fucked.

Yindra, under her breath: That’s what happens when you don’t let yourself recover...

For a moment, there’s the electricity of opportunity in the air as Zay thinks fast. Then he steps forward, stating confidently that he can do it. He can do the Tony role. Yindra and Nigel gape at him, stunned and amazed.

The director starts asking questions, like who will do his role and how he’ll do an entirely new part in one night. Zay’s more than prepared, firing back answers.

Zay: I’ve been studying his rehearsals, I know all the blocking. I can do the singing and dancing in my sleep, and you know I’ve got the range. My understudy is here, so he can just step into the Riff role.

The director considers this, torn between conventionality and truly desperate straits. Zay appeals to her ethos, coming across as stable and capable as he can.

Zay: I can do this. I can play the role.

An endless moment of tension, of uncertainty. Then the director caves, agreeing to the change and instructing Zay to go to costuming fast and get suited up for Tony. They’ll have to make some last-minute tailoring adjustments, but nothing they can’t pull off in the next thirty minutes. Thank God for simple male costuming. Everyone else, warm ups in the green room in five minutes!

The moment she’s gone, Zay turns back to Nigel and Yindra with palpable excitement on his face. They jostle him enthusiastically, lowkey screaming at this turn of events. Zay is about to headline his first Off-Broadway show!

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

In contrast to the high energy of the West Side theater, the Adams auditorium is peaceful. Makes sense, since it’s a Saturday night and school doesn’t open until Monday. The lights are down, only one set of lights on above the stage where Eric is sitting. He’s comfortably on an acting block, looking out at the quiet house and sipping from one of his office mugs.

Unsurprisingly, Jack makes his way onto the stage a few moments later. He raises his eyebrows at seeing Eric already there, but he can’t help but smile.

Jack: I thought we agreed we weren’t coming in this weekend.

Eric: Yeah, and I’m a liar. I caved.

Jack: Well, I’m here too, aren’t I? I just wanted to come in on the offensive.

Eric smiles, patting the acting block set up next to him. Jack walks over, settling down onto the block and releasing a sigh. He soaks in the plaintive quiet for a moment, commenting how different it’ll feel on Monday when the students return. Instances of quiet like this are pretty rare, in this land. The calm before the storm, in a sense.

At least, Eric claims, this year isn’t likely to be the hurricane last year was. And they’re better prepared, now, and they’ve got their school in tip-top shape after this week. They’ve done the work. The kids have done the work. They’re ready now, for what happens next.

Jack chooses to believe he’s right, even with the impending threats that might descend upon their peace come Monday. They joke about how they’re both there bracing for the worst anyway, but Eric points out it’s not just that. He likes coming in just to spend time there, like Stockholm Syndrome almost. Adams, in some ways, is their baby. Especially in the last few years, it’s been something they’ve raised from the ground up to be better. Just like their students.

Jack: And amazingly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. [ raising his thermos ] Partner.

Eric smiles. Even if other aspects of their relationship are murky, that’s something. Partner… he could get used to partner.

Eric clinks his mug against Jack’s thermos, as Zay’s vocals and the orchestral underscore of West Side Story gently floats in...

INT. WEST SIDE THEATER - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Somewhere” as performed by West Side Story Original Cast Recording || Performed by Zay Babineaux & Charlie Gardner

We’re in the second act of the show, Zay obviously killing his first and last stint as Tony. He sings expressively as always, emotive and strong. He has decent chemistry with his co-star as well, especially for only jumping into the role on the fly that night.

In the audience, over the course of the first verse, we see plenty of familiar faces in the audience as Riley planned. She’s sitting next to Lucas, and down the line from him are the rest of the techies, Isadora nestled between him and Dylan. Farkle and Maya are present as well. Jade is sitting next to Nigel, leaning over to whisper something in his ear. Yindra eyes them from Nigel’s other side, amused.

Then, in the back of the house, there’s Charlie. There after all, but hidden away. He’s standing in the wing of the doors to the atrium, though it seems as though he wasn’t hiding there the whole show. He watches Zay perform wistfully, that usual mixture of awe and pride in his features, but it’s cut with melancholy now.

Then, as the Maria verse starts, it’s not Zay’s co-star singing, but Charlie instead. On stage, it’s not the actual performance but the two of them under the soft lights, sharing the duet with more chemistry and far more emotion than the original duo could ever have. On the line “hold my hand and we’re halfway there,” Charlie and Zay lightly press their palms together, before sliding their fingers together and clasping their hands.

We'll find a new way of living, We'll find a way of forgiving…

But that’s not reality. It’s a nice dream, wishful really, but as apt as the lyrics are, it’s not the truth. Charlie blinks the wetness from his eyes, turning and escaping the theater.

EXT. WEST SIDE THEATER - NIGHT

Charlie pushes into the breezy summer night, letting out an exhale. He stands frozen for a moment, torn over going back in to see it through to the end…

But he can’t. It’s over now. What’s done is done. Charlie stuffs his hands in his pockets and starts down the street, pointedly alone in the Manhattan evening. The orchestra plays him off as we watch him get further and further away…

INT. WEST SIDE THEATER - ATRIUM - NIGHT

Zay, on the other hand, is surrounded by company as he gathers with spectators after the performance. He’s clutching flowers from his family as the director lauds his talents to DONNA BABINEAUX, OMAR BABINEAUX, and JADA BABINEAUX. She states he’s a life-saving performer, totally saved the show tonight, and he knows her number for when he’s ready to jump back on the stage. Talk about a helpful connection!

After she flutters off, Donna pulls Zay into a hug and tells him how incredibly proud she is. Omar echoes the sentiment. Jada playfully elbows him and then ruffles his hair, to his complaints, saying she can’t let his head get too big, now. Might have to take a pin to it and let out some of the hot air.

They release him to go greet his adoring fans -- that is to say, his friends. He fields compliments as he goes, finding his way to Riley, Lucas, Dylan, and Asher first. Riley gives him a tight embrace, saying he was amazing and talking about how cool it was to see him play Tony. I mean, the leading role!

Zay: Gotta say, I’m amazed you’re here, Friar. Didn’t think Riley had that much power.

Riley, cheekily: Well, you shouldn’t doubt my influence.

Lucas: [ rolling his eyes ] You can take my presence as the highest compliment.

Zay: Sure…

Dylan: You know, I always knew you’d make a great Tony.

Zay: No kidding?

Dylan: Oh, yeah. Just this tingle I got. Between us here [ leaning in conspiratorially ] I’m kind of a little bit psychic.

Zay: Nooo kidding…

Asher grins, leaning into Dylan’s side. He commends Zay again for his stellar performance, giving him an out to escape the conversation. Zay nods gratefully -- for more than just the compliment -- sliding past them and spotting the person he wants to speak with next.

Isadora is standing between Farkle and Maya’s crowd and the rest of the A class congregation, but somehow she still comes off isolated. Zay saunters over to join her, making a light joke about how she’s emerged from her hibernation and it’s good to see her again. Isadora manages to laugh along, then congratulates him on a good performance. Before he can respond, she blurts out an addition.

Isadora: She would’ve been here. [ a beat ] My mom. She was going to move to New York, and she… she wanted to know my friends. Wanted to support young talent -- she knew it when she saw it. She would’ve been here.

Zay lets her express the rushed sentiment, then nods appreciatively, before finding the best thing to say in response. He smiles lightly.

Zay: I’m glad you are.

It’s a layered statement. Glad she’s there at all, glad she could be there when her mother couldn’t, emphasizing that her presence matters just as much if not more than her starlet mother’s would’ve. It lands for Isadora, who manages a grateful smile in return.

Zay lets her go, slipping into the A class conversation as they’re in the midst of it. Yindra, Nigel, and Jade greet him enthusiastically, HALEY FISHER and CLARISSA CRUZ waiting for their chance to give him sincere congratulations. It’s so cool, one of them really being up there! And of course, it would be Zay Babineaux.

Unfortunately, though, he picked the worst time to slide into the discussion. They’re actively discussing Charlie, only the mystery has gotten weirder.

Clarissa: No, he literally was here. Like, he sat with us all through Act 1.

Haley: Yeah, he got up in the middle of Act 2, said he had to get some fresh air. Then he never came back. I’ve tried texting him, but he’s not answering.

Clarissa: It was weird, even for Charlie.

Yindra: I swear, that boy is a whole ass enigma for someone who tries to be so intentionally vanilla.

Maybe so, Yindra. Maybe so. It’s clear that Zay doesn’t know how to process this information. The fact that Charlie was there, that he came at all… but then apparently walked right out halfway through. And on the night he was playing Tony, the night where his performance was truly something special.

Either way, it certainly takes the wind out from under his wings.

INT. ERIC’S APARTMENT - ISADORA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Isadora and Farkle walk into her bedroom, which is now considerably tidier than the last time we saw it — Asher clearly followed through with his suggestion of cleaning it. Farkle flops down onto the bed, familiar and comfortable with the environment after a summer of visiting. Isadora takes a seat by her desk, spinning the chair around to face Farkle. They briefly discuss how good Zay was in the show, before Farkle turns the focus to Isadora.

Farkle: So how was your big week?

Isadora: Good, actually. I’ve learned that I need to get back onto the skateboard.

A confusing statement for somebody without context. Farkle props himself up on his elbows and frowns at her.

Farkle: I didn’t know you skated.

Isadora: Oh, I don’t. Not at all.

Farkle watches her with amused bewilderment, glad to see her more upbeat and happy. There’s a soft fondness to his expression, which Isadora catches and squirms at.

Isadora: Stop looking at me like that.

Farkle: Like what?

Isadora: I don’t know. Like... like how Maya looked at my mom.

Farkle snorts at that, sitting up properly now.

Farkle: Nobody will ever look at somebody with as much love and adoration as Maya looked at Valerie.

Isadora looks at Farkle blankly, processing what he just said. She scoffs, but sounds vulnerable when she speaks again.

Isadora: You make it sound like you love me. Or something.

Shock flashes across Farkle’s face for a moment, before he smiles and rolls his eyes casually.

Farkle: Of course I love you, you’re one of my best friends. Pretty stupid question for a genius to ask.

To break the heaviness, Farkle reaches to spin Isadora’s desk chair, making her laugh. She grabs a book off her desk and throws it at him in retaliation, which he just dodges with a yelp.

Farkle: [ shaking his head ] Is this the way you treat your best friends? I understand why Lucas is angry all the time now.

Isadora: Shut up, Icarus.

They look at each other with matching goofy smiles, before Farkle surprises Isadora by launching one of the ratty old stuffed animals on her bed at her. She bursts out laughing as she picks up another book as her weapon of choice.

INT. CHUBBIES - NIGHT

Riley, Lucas, Dylan and Asher have regrouped at Chubbies, able to be there late at night thanks to Lucas’s access to the keys. They’re sitting by couple in the usual booth, chatting about the final week and splitting milkshakes. Even though she won’t be back at school for the first day to avoid the hectic energy, overall, the boys declare their efforts with Isadora a massive success.

Lucas: Well done, spaghetti and pickle.

Dylan: Aye, aye.

Riley grins at them, then takes a moment to speak. She claims they have no idea what the coming year is going to be, but they’ve got each other. And she has this feeling, faith maybe, that it’s going to be good. Really good. Dylan nods in approval, and Lucas too, though his perspective is a little less rosy.

Lucas: Don’t see how it could be any worse than everything else we’ve already endured.

Asher: [ rolling his eyes, to Riley and Lucas ] You two really are the epitome of glass half-full, half-empty.

Lucas shrugs, maintaining his unimpressed expression. Riley beams brighter, leaning closer to him and nudging his side. That, he can’t help but crack a smile at. Then she raises the milkshake glass, lightly, and proclaims a toast.

Riley: To us, and our last summer.

Dylan: And the beginning of the rest of our lives.

I’ll cheers to that! Asher and Riley clink the glasses together.

INT. AAA - HALLWAYS - DAY

And just like that, it’s back to Triple A! Dave Williams and NICK YOGI do their usual routine of wishing us an enthusiastic welcome back to AAA on behalf of the A/V club, which they’re truly resurrecting this year. The mood is nowhere near as somber as the previous year, excitement palpable in the halls for the senior A class.

Dave: We’re back, thotties, for senior year.

Yogi: Something that is essentially guaranteed to be a wild ride.

Dave: We’re bigger. We’re better. We’re feral in the looming shadow of great change.

Yogi: It can only be batshit, especially now that the A class is in charge.

Dave: Can’t wait to see what happens!

Me either, Dave. Me either. We’re on the move, Dave and Yogi jogging past Maya at her locker to go get more footage.

She’s dressed in the Riley-chosen outfit, although she did her best to glam it up by adding a beret to the look and making her blonde locks pin-straight. DARBY WINTERS and SARAH CARLSON approach her, the former eagerly giving her a hug and saying it’s good to see her again. She missed her this summer! Sarah focuses on her outfit, snorting.

Sarah: Who picked your outfit, Hart? Sherlock Holmes?

Maya: [ with a flip of her hair ] I’m a woman of my word, Carlson, and that’s all you need to know. Besides, I’m going for a little bit of a Euro-flair.

Darby: I think it looks great.

Maya: You’re so sweet, Darbs. Misguided, but sweet.

Down the hall, Riley is attempting to adjust to her new look as well. She shrugs off her denim jacket with florals painted on the back that she used to get out of the house without being killed by Cory, obviously nervous about sporting this sleek look.

It’s impossible not to look at her though -- especially for Lucas James Friar. He comes to join her, slowing his approach when he sees the way she’s dressed. His eyebrows shoot up.

Lucas: Wow.

Riley: I know. It’s so… ah. [ making a face ] And I had to basically smuggle myself out of the house, but Maya said I can only wear my jacket when there’s a chance my dad will see, even though I look so, like…

Lucas: No, no, I didn’t mean -- it’s not bad. It looks, uh… you look good.

Riley, hopeful: … really?

Lucas: Yes. Yeah. [ clearing his throat ] I was kind of hoping to go through my life not owing Maya Hart for anything, but…

Oh. Well that’s a very different kind of “wow.” Lucas subtly looks her over again, tentatively resting his hand on her waist. Riley regains some of that confidence she had in the mirror from his approval, biting back a smile. It seems like he might lean closer to kiss her…

When they’re interrupted, Farkle oblivious to their romantic tension as he sidles up on Riley’s other side and greets them pointedly. Lucas retracts his hand and swallows his cocktail of emotions, cutting a glare at Farkle. Riley is more friendly as she returns his greeting, spinning to face him with a smile.

Riley: You seem like you’re in better spirits.

Farkle: Let’s just say I found a way to… let off some steam.

Farkle and Lucas exchange a knowing look. It goes over Riley’s head, who is distracted when Zay wanders over to join their little grouping.

Riley: There he is! Our A class celebrity.

Zay: Riley, please, no dramatics. [ grinning ] But you’re not wrong. Though I’m not the one dressed like one. Damn, Miss M. Where has this been for the last three years?

Riley preens a bit, obviously pleased with the praise of her friends. Though Zay claims he’s got some new bling as well, showing off his new Adams class ring. It’s gold-banded, with his birthstone nestled in the center, a regal red ruby. He also explains that his initials are inscribed on the inside. Riley loves it, but again he defers and states she is the looker today.

Maya: And I’ll take credit for that, thank you very much.

Maya joins them, coming to stand with Farkle and completing their little gathering. It’s insane, honestly, seeing them all interact casually and mostly amicably. Maya brings the conversation back around to the point Dave and Yogi made upon our return -- it’s their school now, bitches.

It’s an empowering thought… for a moment. Their idealized comeback is disrupted by a few underclassmen rushing through the halls, making an eerie yet somewhat excited declaration. She’s coming! She’s here!

The seniors exchange bewildered looks, but they don’t have to wait long for clarity. A reminder of that new factor they almost blissfully forgot makes itself known in the most bombastic way possible. As the opening horns blare…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Confident” as performed by Demi Lovato || Performed by Missy Bradford

Oh, that’s right. She’s here. MISSY BRADFORD is back, as rich, alluring, and privileged as ever. She looks essentially the same as when we last saw her, only her hair is cut to her shoulders now -- though still equally luscious. We pan up from her heeled boots and over her expensive ensemble until she launches into the number, coming in to conquer.

And, to be fair, she’s a decent performer. She’s no diva in terms of talent, but her personality and assertiveness make up for the skill she lacks. She tears up the scenery and messes with underclassmen as she marches on, pulling some in as back-up dancers and simply flirting with other male students.

Our crew of seniors are less won over, still remembering the circus that got her into the school in the first place. A shot hangs on their reactions during the number, a combination of disdain, apprehension, and affront. Lucas is definitely unenthused. Zay and Riley look particularly disturbed, while Maya cocks her head and assesses this new bitch who might think she has a chance of being a threat.

Even so, a banging performance is a banging performance. Ah, to be back at AAA…

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

Missy isn’t the only new face arriving at Adams on that last first day. Jack and Eric are waiting in the atrium to greet their new coworker. Jack is shifting nervously, Eric reaching out and touching his shoulder to keep him from jittering so much.

Eric: You’re making me seasick.

Jack glares at him, but only after he glances at his hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t get the chance to respond, their guests arriving at exactly that moment. EVELYN RAND, looking professional but unique as always in a fun colorful pantsuit, grins as she makes her entrance with a fellow school board employee in tow. She greets both of them with light embraces, stating it’s always a pleasure to see them.

Then, she introduces their new colleague, HARRISON YANCY. He’s a large, sharply dressed man in his 70s, exuding traditional authority. He shakes their hands, but doesn’t offer the warmth that their boss Evelyn does. As she explains it, he’ll be joining them as an administrative consultant of sorts, monitoring the school for the year to see how things go.

Yes, that is exactly what they don’t want… but nothing to be done about it now. Eric takes control once the introductions are done, charm up as high as he can turn it.

Yancy: Quite a fine institution you have here.

Eric: We know, and we take it’s maintenance quite seriously. And you haven’t seen the best of it -- all you had the pleasure of seeing was this lovely atrium and our lecture hall. Please, allow me to give you both a quick tour. I know you’ve already seen it, Evelyn…

Evelyn: Oh, I never pass up a good tour. Lead the way, Eric. I do hope we get to see the cafeteria. I heard about that renovation you all were planning for the mosaic tiles on the wall, and I’ve been dying of curiosity…

Eric kicks off their walkabout, Yancy examining everything with a critical eye while Evelyn keeps up lively chatter. Eric glances over his shoulder before they disappear from sight, shooting Jack a reassuring thumbs up.

Well, no turning back now. Jack releases a sigh, returning back to the front office.

Riley, pre-lap: This place is insane. How do you keep everything in order like this?

INT. AAA - PROP LOFT - DAY

Riley is up in the prop loft with Asher, who is starting his first day inventory and tidying up. Not that anything would’ve even moved over the summer, but still, he does what he needs to do. He’s meticulously arranging while Riley meanders the shelves, actually getting a good look at the props on display.

Asher: I take my position seriously, that’s how. With effort comes organization, and with organization comes control. And when things are in control, then nothing can go wrong.

Riley: That’s a nice idea. Triple A could use some control.

Asher: If the prop loft wants to descend into disarray, it can do it when I’m dead.

Well, or like, graduated. Riley smiles, shaking her head. She focuses back on the shelves, raising her eyebrows at a sticky note stuck to the cubbyhole of one of the more sizable props. It’s not in Asher’s handwriting like most of them, instead scribbled in Dylan’s messy chicken scratch.

FRAGILE!! Treat her with respect or bear the fury of Asher Lupe Garcia!!!! AND SATAN!!

The prop under such divine protection is a clock, ornate and beautifully carved but obviously delicate. The attention to detail is astounding, and it’s clearly cared for with a lot of love.

Riley: I didn’t realize you all had Satan on speed dial.

Asher looks at her like what the fuck, until he sees what she’s looking at. He rolls his eyes playfully, coming over to join her.

Asher: It’s my favorite prop. Has been since I got here, but we haven’t had a production that it would fit. Guess that’s for the best, since it’s pretty fragile -- hence the warning.

Riley: Yes, Dylan clearly has strong feelings about its protection.

Asher: Yeah, but I’m sure you can guess who almost accidentally broke it first…

Though the comment isn’t exactly complimentary, Asher is smiling fondly as he reads over Dylan’s note again. Then he focuses on the clock, explaining that he tries his best to keep it in shape. That includes keeping the hands functional, which he does by gently pushing the hands counterclockwise back towards the 3.

He has this thing about where the hands are. He never lets them get too close to striking 12. It just started as a habit somewhere in freshman year, but now it’s kind of like a sacred ritual.

Riley, amused: I thought you weren’t superstitious.

Asher: I’m not! [ off her giggle ] This is OCD, not mythos.

Maybe so, but there might be some subconscious reasoning too that he hasn’t taken the time to unpack. And he won’t be doing so today either. Riley lets it go, lightly nudging the hands further backwards in time while Asher goes back to work.

EXT. AAA - LUNCH COURTYARD - DAY

Time is of no concern to Maya, who is sprawled on top of one of the outdoor lunch tables. She’s leaning back on her palms, tilting her head up to absorb the sunshine before they go back into the school for a full day of AAA chaos. Farkle is seated on the bench below her, checking his watch intermittently to make sure they don’t miss class.

He claims it’s weird without Isadora there, to which she responds that now he knows how weird it was when he was gone after his attempt. It’s not right when one of them isn’t there -- they make up AAA, you know. Their personalities. It’s a pretty sentimental comment for Maya Hart, but she breezes past it a moment later.

Maya: Besides, she made the right move ditching today. If Bradford’s little display was any indication, we’re in for a chaotic year. Better for her to take the extra day to prepare for it, maybe the rest of us will simmer down after the first day buzz.

Farkle agrees. He asks what she thought about Missy, like if they should be concerned, but Maya simply scoffs. She is not concerned about that privileged vixen. Maya has been the top bitch at AAA, in their class, for three years.

Maya: No old-money spoiled brat is going to swoop in and take that away. She can try -- but she’ll fail.

Here’s the bottom line: this is their year, for real this time. She may have been displaced emotionally last year, with his whole thing and her mom being relocated -- who she misses terribly, despite how aloof she’s acting about the whole thing -- but this year they’re stronger than that. It’s their turf, Farkle, and it’s their year.

Maya: Mark my words, Farkle --

Farkle: You sure do have a lot of them…

Maya: This year belongs to us. And you and I? We’re going to get everything we want.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The A class assembles for their first performance lab of senior year, cheerful greetings and hugs being exchanged for those who haven’t had the chance to catch up yet.

Zay is up on stage with HARPER BURGESS, the latter complimenting him once again on an excellent show in West Side Story. She knew he had it in him. He’s clearly grateful for the belief, reminding her that he wouldn’t have found out about the opportunity if it weren’t for her. He thanks her for looking out for him. She pats his shoulder, nodding him back down to the seats.

Then she gathers the class, welcoming them back for their senior year. She can feel their excitement even from up on stage. SHAWN HUNTER jogs on stage to join her, but lets her stay in control, having finally figured out their co-teaching balance.

After pointing out that they have old and new faces joining them this year -- a few glances cutting to Missy seated contently on her own in their midst, unbothered -- Harper goes on to explain what the year is going to be like. There’s a lot in store for them this year, and it’s going to be full of hard work. The senior showdown, college applications, emotional highs and lows… but it’s going to be fun too. And enriching, full of growth, as every year at AAA is. There’s very little doubt about that.

As she starts to discuss performances, Maya raises her hand, though she doesn’t wait to be addressed. She happily declares that she and Farkle have actually prepared something for the first performance of the year, so no need to ask for volunteers. They’ve got it covered.

Nate: No one asked.

Actually, Harper starts, they already have someone performing first. That’s what she was just about to explain. This student requested the opportunity to come back with a flourish, since she’s got a lot of catching up to do. Maya is stunned, wondering who already undercut her senior year triumphs.

And she doesn’t wait long to find out. The moment Harper vacates the stage, the jaunty orchestration starts, and suddenly a powerful mezzo soprano voice is filling the auditorium.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Anything Goes / Anything You Can Do” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by Chai Fresco

A set piece turns to reveal CHAI FRESCO, back from her year abroad in London. She’s bolder, blonder, and delivers a stunningly strong rendition of the selected mash-up. For someone who effectively blended into the background for all of sophomore year, enough to pull off what she did, she must have been holding back a lot.

Because she’s good. Damn good, delivering the message the performance signals loud and clear. Anything you can do, I can do better…

In the audience, the A class is watching in dumbstruck shock. Some people, like the techies, clearly forgot Chai existed. But for the performers -- especially the divas, like Zay, Farkle, and Maya -- her return is a loud and unwanted wake-up call. Just because they’re all chummy now, there’s still competition, now more than ever before. They take the vocals that argue with Chai about whether or not she can outshine them.

And in this moment, she does. She throws her arms out wide and delivers the final resounding notes, shattering the finale. Maya, Farkle, and Zay stare at her with their mouths dropped open. Riley grimaces, knowing this can only mean drama. Next to her, Lucas tries to hide a laugh behind his hand.

Now we’re really back. As for what this year holds, well, we obviously can’t get too comfortable.

Anything goes!

END OF EPISODE.

#S3 #episodes #301 #AND WE'RE BACK!

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ddproductionsw77 · 7 years ago

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Birthdays, First Times, and Letters from Princeton Pt. 2 (Riarkle Future Two Shot)

Fandom: Girl Meets World

Pairing(s): Riarkle

Characters: (Main) Riley Matthews and Farkle Minkus, (Supporting) Maya Hart-Hunter

Rating: I’ll back this part down to T with a warning of mentions of sex and swearing ;)

Description: Farkle Minkus gets dumped by the love of his life two days after the first time they’d ever been so close. A month passes and finally, he can’t take it anymore, he needs to know why. Riley owes him why.

Author’s Note: It’s a break-up/make-up fic guys. I’ve already established that in this universe, these two go one to get engaged and have a baby on the way. BTW check out those snapshots, ‘Summer Plans’, ‘Little Drunk, Lotta Careless’, and ‘Just Go To Sleep, Riles’.

Monday rolled around inevitably, like the dread in the pit of Riley’s stomach.

She was at her locker when he found her. She’d pulled her hair into a simple ponytail that trailed down her spine, adorning a white t-shirt, black leggings, and a loose gray jacket. Farkle thought she looked absolutely beautiful until he noticed that her attire was missing something.

Riley wasn’t smiling.

“Hey,” He greeted, uneasily rocking on his conversed feet with his hand shoved into his pockets, “How, um, are you feeling?”

God, what was wrong with him? This is Riley! So, why did it feel like she was miles away when he knew he could just reach out and touch her?

She collected her books and shut her locker, “Better, I guess.”

“That’s,” Farkle rubbed the back of his neck. “Good.”

Riley nodded, leaning her shoulder against the metal of lockers and shifting her books in front of her, almost like a shield.

“So, I know you’re avoiding me,” Farkle stated, matter-of-factly.

Maybe he had hoped she’d roll her eyes and give him a smile, that she’d reach up and lightly pat his cheeks and tell him, Love, not everything is about you. Sometimes people don’t feel good. Maybe he had hoped she’d at least deny it.

Instead, she just moved her gaze from one shoe to the other.

Nodding, he sighed, “Well, this is just wonderful…”

Farkle still didn’t understand. If Riley was ignoring him, and now he knew she was, the timing would indicate it was because… well, because they’d had sex.

God, did she regret it? Wish she could take it back?

He didn’t think so, though, because Riley had seemed to… enjoy herself as much as he did. In fact, Farkle knew she had, recalling sweat, giggles, and gasped names from just days ago. Shaking his head, he fiddling with his hands nervously, “Look, if this is about that night than we can tal-“

“I think we should break up.”

Farkle stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped everything.

He’d heard wrong. She’d said something else, literally anything else. Because she- She couldn’t have said- It just wasn’t possible. He knew life could be cruel, that the world could kick you down and make you feel small, like a nothing.

But it couldn’t that cruel. It could not just… take Riley from him, not now, not when he’d just gotten to know every piece of her, not ever. They were always, it didn’t make sense. He loved her.

He’d promised. Always.

Coming crashing back to reality, Farkle jerked back as if she’d struck him. Looking at her like she was a complete stranger to him, this girl he knew better then he knew anything, he barely managed to choke out, “W-what?”

Riley’s eyes filled up tears and she looked up at the ceiling, blinking furiously. Clearing her throat, she shook her head, “I just think it would be best for us both,” She shrugged, biting her cheek, “I love you, Farkle, but-“

“Wait, wait, wait,” He pleaded, throwing his hands up, “Just stop there, okay? Please, Riley, ju-just stop there. You love me and I love you, so just stop there, okay? Because, always, remember?”

Her face crumpled at the slight waver in his voice and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth, shaking her head.

Farkle stared at her, true horror and panic setting into his system like an infection, like a fever. Swallowing hard with tears in his eyes, he reached out and took her other hand, desperately trying again, “I can fix this, Riles. I can make it right!”

She dropped her hand and opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off.

“Whatever I did, Riley, I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry! I’ll-“ His voice cracked and he cursed before continuing with teary eyes, “I’ll be better, I’ll do better. I’ll keep my promises and I’ll listen, whatever you want!”

The girl’s eyes trailed down to their hands, fingers intertwined, such a perfect fit it could have only been crafted in the heavens.

Farkle, noticing her gaze, tightened his grip like maybe, just maybe, if he held on tight enough, she’d stay.

“Babe,” His name for her, the name that only felt right coming from his lips. Her eyes darted to meet his, to that electric blue that spoke to her heart and touched her soul, “I know I don’t even deserve to ask,“ He begged in a broken whisper, "But please.”

Please don’t do this. Please stop.

Please.

Just.

Stay.

His pleading eyes said it all as they took each other in, tears clouding both of their visions. Riley took a shaky breath and a step forward.

Farkle’s heart skipped a beat as she slowly pushed up onto her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, resting her forehead against the crook of his neck for a moment.

But then she stepped back.

She shook her head.

She pulled her hand from his grip.

And then Riley Matthews walked away from him, taking his heart, freshly ripped from his chest, with her.

Somehow, Farkle made it to class.

Taking his usual seat, right beside her, just close enough to catch her scent from the breeze sweeping in from the cracked window, he numbly stared down at his textbook. The scent brought all the memories flooding back, washing over him like a suffocating riptide, pulling him under and further and further from shore as he struggled against it.

Brushing again her shoulder as he sat beside her in the bay window, talking for hours about anything and everything cross-legged on the floor of her bedroom, laughing at her cheesy jokes because they were so damn adorable, pecking her lips anytime he felt like it because he could, knowing her favorite colors, animals, and lyrics, believing in her and her drive to change people, being as close to her as he could ever be to another person, feeling like they were written in the stars, like they were Pluto and Mars.

And none of it, not a single moment or memory, mattered now.

Farkle’s eyes clamped closed as he felt the telltale burn of tears. He gripped his pencil until it hurt and wondered how the wood didn’t snap.

He could hear a sniffle from her direction, could feel his chest twist painfully but couldn’t bring himself to look over.

Just feeling her presence made him feel like he might spiral into a panic attack, looking at her wasn’t something he could bare. He just couldn’t do it.

He loved her.

She loved him.

They were going to be always.

So, what the hell had happened?

“So, Farkle and Riley are just…done?” Maya asked, leaning down over her friend as he attempted to read the chemistry book before him.

Farkle sighed, “Ask Ri-“ He choked and cleared his throat, “Ask her. She’s the one who ended it.”

It had been a month. He didn’t feel any better.

“Trust me, I did! But she won’t say anything! Just that ‘it’s for the best’” Maya used air quotes before rolling her eyes, “Whatever the hell that means…”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Maya.” He said, tiredly, pinching his nose.

The blonde looked at him, sadly, before sighing, “It just doesn’t make sense! A fucking week before she broke up with you, she was asking me about-“ Maya stopped, considered, pressed on, “Well, even before that, she was all excited about finding the perfect dress for Prom, something you’d like, her words!”

He would have liked her in anything…

Farkle shrugged, “Obviously, she changed her mind.”

“About you? No way, not just on a whim. I refuse to accept that and you shouldn’t either!” Maya snapped, grasping his collar over the table and tugging him forward. “Dammit, Minkus, where’s your fight? Your girlfriend dumped you for no reason and you’re just gonna take that?! You’re not even going to demand answers from Riley?”

Farkle cringed involuntarily at the name and shoved Maya’s hand away.

“What would be the point?!” He snapped, glaring at the blonde girl. “Why won’t bring her back if she doesn’t want to be with me, Maya! And she clearly doesn’t! I can’t make her!”

The girl gave him a skeptical look, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest, “Farkle, I know you still miss her.“

Now, there was an understatement…

Life with Riley was like living in technicolor. Everything was vibrant and captivating and made you really believe in silly things like fate and destiny. In her absence, the color had bled out, turning into varying shades of gray. The colors hadn’t faded; they had just gone.

Kind of like she had.

Narrowing his eyes, Farkle bent his head back over his textbook, “Because how I feel matters so much, right?”

Maya paused, considering again, “Fine. I know she still misses you, too.”

Farkle doubted it.

Farkle sat in the library long after Maya had given up on him, staring down at the words before him and wondering what Riley Matthews was doing.

He knew he shouldn’t, shouldn’t think about her, shouldn’t care anymore, should be over it by now. That’s how normal high school romances went, right? They were fast and when they ended the world did too, but only for a day or so, and then it was supposed to be like nothing had ever happened.

He was supposed to move on from Riley, move past her.

But Riley wasn’t just some high school romance of his, she was Riley.

She was the girl who’d fought so hard not to laugh at his name like everyone else did, the girl who’d ridden alongside him as his father taught him how to ride a bike and the first person to reach him when he fell off. She was the girl who had kissed his scraped knee because at the time she swore she was going to be a princess doctor someday and the one who had always and would always love him just the way he was, freak or nothing or whatever.

Was there even a life for him past her? Because whatever bleak existence he’d been going through the motions of since Riley had walked away from him in that hallway was not a life. It was a joke.

…He wished it was a joke.

She had said she loved him… so why crush him, run him over with a Mack truck, split him like an atom so that everything left was radioactive and infective to everyone remaining in the devastation zone? Why make him promise her ‘always’ when she was just going to change her mind?

A shadow fell over Farkle’s textbook and he figured it had to be Maya or Lucas coming to find him, to 'hang out’ but he knew it was really to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid while alone.

He was surprised to look up and find Riley Matthews instead.

Farkle wished that she didn’t effect him anymore. He had hoped that after a month, seeing her wouldn’t send his heart into his throat or make his chest ache. He’d been counting on no longer finding her chocolate eyes as warm as cocoa.

But it was Riley, so of course, all those things were still true.

Riley spoke, quietly and hesitantly, to the boy staring at her, wide-eyed, "Maya said that, um, that you had something you wanted to ask me.”

Farkle was still in shock over his ex-girlfriend/ex-best friend’s presence, so close that he could have reached out and touched her. He almost did… before remembering that that was no longer okay. Riley’s space was her own again now, not his.

“Farkle?”

His name on her lips was like a twist to the knife she’d plunged into his chest a month ago. At least the pain snapped him back to life, his eyes instantly darting away from her face, “I don’t know what Maya was talking about.”

“Oh.”

Riley stood next the table, shifting uncomfortably as she glanced around, “Well if you need anything, I’m always-”

They both flinch involuntarily and her voice died in her throat. Sighing in a way that Farkle would almost say was wistful, Riley started to turn away. She was going to walk away from him again.

He couldn’t just watch her leave. Not again.

“Why?”

The brunette turned back with a furrowed brow, remaining silent.

Once he’d finally asked, Farkle found himself desperate to get her answer. She made him promise and then forced him the break that promise days later. They’d been friends practically their whole lives, surely he deserved to know why.

“I just need to know why.” He pleaded, hesitating at seeing Riley’s face fall but persisting anyway, “I’m not trying to make this harder or hurt you but I think you owe me at least that. Because I keep going over everything, keep going over that night, and I can’t figure out what changed for you. I can’t figure out how I managed to fuck us, Riley and Farkle and always, up.”

Her eyes sparkled with tears as they filled with sadness, wearing and tragic. He wanted to get up and wrap his arms around her, shelter her precious, kind heart from the pain she was carrying as if she were Atlas trying to hold up the sky.

But Farkle reminded himself once again that that would not be okay. Riley and he were now separate entities again. That was apparently how she wanted it. He clenched his fist because he would do anything she asked, even now.

Riley opened her mouth, voice unsteady as she shook her head and refused to meet his eyes, “You didn’t. I told you, it’s just what’s best for the both of us.”

“Bullshit!” Farkle snapped, unable to stop himself.

He hadn’t believed her when she said it a month ago and he didn’t believe her now.

There was no scenario, no situation, where either of them was better off without the other. Even before he’d realized he was in love with her, she’d always been his best friend, the first person he wanted to talk to when something great happened or even something terrible. She was Riley Matthews and he was Farkle Minkus. They fit together at every ripped edge.

“Farkle-“

“If you’re going to lie to my face, Riley, you can go. I thought we didn’t lie to each other.” He interrupted in a grumble, slumping back over his book.

He had known it was pointless to ask, he had told Maya, but now he had asked and it just made everything worse. Farkle really didn’t want to hurt Riley, but God, she’d cut so deep herself and had taken so much that he just spoke without thinking… He probably did that too often.

Farkle heard a strangled sob and closed his eyes, not daring to look up at her.

Riley crying was like kryptonite to him… and he didn’t want to feel bad just yet. He already felt shitty enough without piling guilt on top.

After a moment, her choked voice arose from somewhere to his left as he still refused to look at her anymore, “I’m not lying! I could never do that to you! Not after…”

Riley tried to clear her throat and Farkle wondered if she meant after ‘they had dated’ or ‘they had sex’ or maybe even after ‘everything they’d been through’. It didn’t really matter, he knew that, but the curiosity still burned in his chest, trying to pinpoint the moment his world had ended.

“Farkle, do you not see that this is killing me? Are you blind to how much I miss you?” Riley suddenly fired the passion and raw emotion in her voice enough to draw his full attention despite his best efforts. “But I am not the girl you want to compromise your future for, okay? I can’t be because I refuse to be the one that stops you from doing all the great things that you are meant to do! Can’t you just understand that?”

By the end, she was practically begging, her voice nearly hysterical as she pleaded for his understanding.

Farkle was so confused and so tired and he missed her, too. Slowly he stood, stepping towards her, close enough that he could track the tears as they spilled down her cheeks and smell the same sunflower perfume that had clung to his pillow for a week after their night together.

“So, why?”

Riley stared into Farkle’s eye for a long moment before squeezing her’s shut like he was a bad dream that she was desperate to wake up from. “I applied to Princeton.”

His stomach flipped, recalling every conversation, every time, that they had mentioned his ‘dream’ university. How obsessed Riley had become with some picture perfect happily ever after where they both attended and earned their degrees and went on to share their independent successes… She had been dead set on it.

“They rejected me.”

Farkle almost laughed at the cruel irony. She’d broken up with him so he’d go to Princeton… He’d never told her that he’d already made up his mind about that months ago, after the first time he told her that he was in love with her.

He remained silent, trying to run through her words again, decipher some other meaning than the obvious. Shaking his head, he sighed brokenly, “Riley, I turned them down. I’m applying to Columbia next fall.”

The girl’s big brown eye flew open, “What!? But- but Princeton is-“

“The dream?” Farkle completed before shrugging and shoving his hands in his pockets, “Maybe my father’s but…” He glanced away, “I had my own dreams.”

Still confused, the brunette took a step forward. Now, the pair was barely separated, so close Riley had to tilt her head up and Farkle his down to look each other in the eye. “Like Columbia?”

“Like you.” He mumbled, truthfully, for just her to hear. His electric blue eyes were trained on the stone tilting of the library floor and his ears grew pink.

Riley froze, heart pounding in her eyes.

Farkle had chosen her, long before she’d even thought to choose him. He was always so far ahead of her, so she should have expected it. She was his dream. And he loved her, she knew he did, probably more than anyone else…

And she’d crushed him, taken his love and his trust and thrown it in his face. Yet, he still wanted to plan his future around staying in New York, staying close to her.

Riley launched herself at the boy, kissing him hard and clumsily. It didn’t matter that it was messy, imperfect, and a little awkward though because the second their lips connected it was like taking the first breath of fresh air in a month.

It was like coming back to life, an explosion of color and light and something so special that they both knew they’d never find it with another.

Farkle pulled her in, hands pressing against her back until there was no space between them and they could feel each other’s racing pulses through the fabric of their clothes. The kiss was heartbreak and love, fractured but with the potential to heal.

Pulling away, Riley continued to cling to Farkle as his arm remained wrapped around her. Their noses brushed as the opened their eye, gazes locking. There was fear and uncertainty in her wide, open eyes like she was unsure of what his reaction would be and what was to come next.

Farkle tilted his chin up and pressed his lips against her temple, murmuring, “Please.”

Riley relaxed in his grip, leaning into his lips and warmth, before slowly nodding and looking up to meet his eyes again, “Yes. I realized I’m always going to be in love you, no matter where you are. Columbia or Princeton or fucking Mars, it doesn’t matter. I know that now.”

Moving one hand up to thread into her slick, soft hair, Farkle buried his face in the crown of her head, squeezing his own eyes shut as he nodded to echo her. “I’m always going to be in love with you, too, Riley Matthews. I promised you always, remember?”

“I remember.”

WOW! EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER!

Note: If you guys are curious about the long spaces between posts, please read my update called ‘Bad News, Good News’ as it explains everything AND starts my drawing for my followers! CHECK IT OUT!!! Please!

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