Lucas sat in the hallway of Abigail Adams High School, against a wall, with his knees nearly to his chest. He had a spiral notebook in his lap. He picked it up and started to write.

Dear Riley,

We're in our Junior year now. Growing up, things were so confusing; but that makes sense because when you're young, you don't understand everything. I've always looked through rose-colored glasses with you, Riley. I thought that I knew we were perfect for each other…we were perfect.

He stopped writing. He set his pen on the floor. He thought back to what Maya told him at the Ski Lodge.

"Now, go tell her you love her."

He didn't for a while. He told her the first time near the end of their sophomore year. He thought he had to. They'd been together for over a year, so why wouldn't he?

He picked his pen back up. He pressed it to the paper once again.

The first time those glasses came off was the first day of freshman year. I realized that day just how much you strive to control things…especially other people's lives. After that, I let the glasses cover my eyes again.

When we finally got together, I was so happy. I finally got what I wanted all along- who I wanted. Remember that lesson Harper taught us when we were in eighth grade? Sense and Sensibility. Head and heart. I did use both when it came to you, but my feelings always trumped what the reality was.

You've always been optimistic, which is something I've always loved about you. But you've also always been immature. It made sense when we were in seventh grade, but as we get older, we're supposed to grow and mature. There are so many things you don't understand, and, honestly, I think you don't let yourself understand. You stop it from making you grow. You want to stay that optimistic and innocent girl, so you don't let yourself learn or absorb things- important things. Maya knows so much more than you.

You've always treated growth as a bad thing. Maya grew and you cut her down for it. She got an A, she found hope, and became less of a rebel. She started to grow up and you didn't like that. You like your Rileytown, your bubble. Everything has to be perfect. I thought you would have outgrown that. You still don't support me going to Texas A&M or Maya maybe going to college in another state or even another country. The only person you ever supported changing was Farkle. I have no idea why.

He grew up too. All of us did…except you. Even Auggie acts more mature than you at times. He may not understand everything, since he's only nine, but he knows what it means to love someone. He sees Ava's flaws and accepts them. He grows with her. He doesn't look for a fairytale. He wants the arguments and faults, not just the happily ever after. He likes seeing your mom and her pretend to not like each other but then show how much they really love each other. He likes the changes through the years. You've always seen me as perfect. When you found out I wasn't, it was a disaster to you. Then you looked passed it, pretended it didn't exist anymore, and started treating me as perfect again. I'm not, and neither are you.

I never told you this, but when you said that you only had hope for you and me, but knew you and Maya would endure until the end, it hurt. That's not how it's supposed to work. "Til death do us part" is supposed to apply to who you want to spend the rest of your life with as their wife, not your best friend. I hope you'll realize that someday.

The reason I'm writing this in a letter is because if I saw your face and those chocolate eyes, I wouldn't be able to say what I need to. I wouldn't be able to do this.

I've told myself these past two years that you would grow up and be who I imagined you could be. Maybe someday you will, but I don't want to wait that long…I can't. I thought I could have been in love with you, but the truth is, I'm not; I'm in love with the potential of who you could be, not who you are now. I want to believe that you'll get to that person, but the more that you don't, I become less blind to the reality that you may never get there. I hope you will someday, Riley, I really do. We're just not right for each other, at least not now. So, this is me letting you know that I'm letting us go. I'm sorry if I hurt you by writing this, but I needed to. I hope that someday you'll understand.

Lucas

He tore the paper out of his notebook and folded it in thirds. He wrote "Riley" on the middle back part. He stood up. He walked to his locker and put the notebook into it. He took the Subway to Topanga's. He walked in and saw Riley talking to Katy. He set the letter on the coffee table where their group would usually sit. He walked to the door and opened it. Farkle and Maya walked in.

"Hey, Huckleberry," Maya greeted him.

"Hey," he replied. He left Topanga's.

"That was weird," Maya said.

She and Farkle sat down. Riley joined them.

"What's that?" Farkle questioned, pointing at the letter. "It has your name on it, Riley."

"I don't know'" she replied.

She picked up the paper and unfolded it. She started to read.