"You sleeping over tonight?" Asked the brunette on Friday. Maya shook her head as she played with her lunch, wishing the medicine would kick in already. She leaned her head against her hand, her hand gripping her hair, lightly. Her oversized blue sweater had fallen off of her shoulder, revealing her black shirt. She had on and her ponytail hung lose. At least her clothes matched and she wore foundation and a weak mascara, but she looked utterly miserable.
"Why not?"
"I'm busy." She mumbled. She wasn't busy. Mike was out of town and Maya could finally rest at home, not afraid of the door bursting open.
Two weeks ago, she'd begun to get tired more often. She had stopped teasing Lucss that week, which he missed. Even before then, something about her wasn't herself. They had a week off and Maya lied, saying that she went to visit her aunt, and on Monday, she came back a mess. She was now avoiding Riley's parents because of their growing concern, and now wasn't speaking as much to her friends.
She reached for her milk with her shaking hand, opening it up. Her friends watched her but she tried to ignore them. She pulled out a straw and took a few sips. She had thrown up everything she had eaten the day before last night, and was glad to have something in her. She sipped her milk as conversation continued.
That night, Topanga asked Riley where Maya was and she said that she had told her she was busy. No one was buying it. Cory offered to drive Riley to check on her friend.
When they knocked on Maya's door, it took a really long time for anyone to answer. Finally, on there third knock, the girl opened up the door.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, confused. "I told you. I'm busy."
"You don't seem very busy." Maya's hair was still in a lose ponytail and her sweater still fell partially off her shoulder. She was wearing socks and still looked tired, despite the dark circles under her eyes having been covered with make up. She looked in her apartment and back.
"I was just leaving." She said, grabbing her bag, slipping on her shoes and fixing her sweater, quickly. She stepped into the hallway and closed the door.
"Where are you going?"
"Out." She turned and walked to the exit.
"Maya. Where are you going?" Cory repeated Riley's question.
"I'm going to visit a friend." She bent down and removed the lock from her rusty bike.
"You probably shouldn't go. You're not looking so healthy."
"With all do respect sir, you're not a doctor. And I feel fine. I'll see you Monday." She got on her bike and left.
"You think she's visiting a friend?" Asked Riley.
"Not at all."
"What's going on? She's never like this."
"I think she's sick. I don't know why she didn't tell us that, though."
"I know Maya better then anyone. I think she just doesn't want pity. I also don't think that she's just sick. I'm worried."
"Don't worry, Riley. We'll figure it out." He wasn't going to tell his child that he too was concerned about Maya. Riley needed to be told that things were okay. Someone needed to tell her that and that needed to be him.
