v. adjusting

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a/n: hello!! i wanted to start off just by saying thank you again for everyone who has read this, has commented in any sense, has voted, it truly means a lot to me, so thank you everyone for being such nice peaches. i love and appreciate y'all so much. this one shot was written for day three of rucas fanfiction week on tumblr and is a little angsty but has a little hopeful undertone. my sincerest apologies for any mistakes that you might encounter, please feel free to yell at me if there are any really bad mistakes. i hope everyone enjoys this, and thank you everyone so much for reading!!

prompt: "i see the clock up on the wall and wonder where you are tonight"

warning: there are slight spoilers for the last couple episodes of s3, so if you don't want to know anything about the big game changer that is being addressed in the last two episodes, you might want to skip out on this one!

...

Riley learns to love London, just like her mother said she would. It takes some time, the first few months are by far the hardest, but about six months after the move, it doesn't quite feel like home just yet, but it's getting there. She's made some new friends, she knows her way around the city a little better, her room starts to feel more personal, more lived in, she's happy.

Of course she misses New York, and her friends, Maya especially. It was hard to leave them behind, but they still talk sometimes and through her weekly video chats with Maya, she gets to learn all about what their lives are like without her in it. It hurts, to know that her friends are all still there, getting to laugh and talk everyday, and she's missing out on it, but there's nothing she can do about it. Her friends in London help her hurt less, they take her shopping, show her their favorite places to eat and entertain themselves, and soon, she's talking to her friends in New York a little less.

And then there's Lucas.

She didn't regret breaking up with him before the move. They were still so young, their relationship so fresh and new, that it would be hard, impossible even, to try and continue it across an entire ocean. But, her lack of regret didn't mean she didn't miss him. She still thought of him every time she saw a vet clinic, or sat on the subway, her heart still ached a little bit when she saw other high schoolers holding hands or leaning on each other in the hallways of her new school.

She had been able to make new friends to repair that loss in her life, but she hadn't found a solution to the Lucas sized hole in her chest. She knew it was silly to still be so hung up on him months after leaving, they hadn't even been together that long, they weren't in love (although, Riley often imagines how fast it would have taken them to be if she was still in New York), they were fifteen year old kids in their first real relationship.

When she talks to Maya, Maya mentions that Lucas is seemingly just as hung up on her as she is him, saying that he hasn't talked to anyone outside of their group and even though he's been asked out on dates, he never says yes. This makes her smile, but also makes her sad. She doesn't want Lucas to be so hung up on her, even though she is with him, she broke up with him so they didn't feel tied down to each other and could enjoy being in high school without a long distance relationship pulling them apart.

Riley knows she sounds a bit like a hypocrite, but it's not as if boys here in London are knocking down her door asking for a date. Sure, some of them are cute, but she doesn't feel like she needs to date anyone, especially because she feels as if she's still acclimating to the city.

One particular Friday night, her parents have decided to go out on the town and go on their first real date since moving, and Riley is saddled with watching Auggie, not that she minds. They're both adjusting and haven't spent nearly as much time together as she would have hoped. So when her friends ask her if she wants to join them for dinner and movie, she politely declines, excited to spend the evening with her younger brother.

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