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Life Series Book 1  Chapter 1: Broken Peace

“Arbor Eliffe! You get back here young lady!” I ran at top speed as Mrs. Greenwood yelled after me brandishing her woven basket over her head. 

I laughed like a maniac as I happily got away with the pockets of my jacket stuffed with cookies. However I hadn’t quite reached the woods when a hand reached out and pulled me back by the collar of my coat. 

I turned and smiled sheepishly at my father. He didn’t say anything as Mrs. Greenwood caught up to us. “Burian she’s done it again” the woman huffed her breath making little clouds in the cold air with each exhale. “Stole the whole tray the little troublemaker” she prodded me in the stomach with her basket which made me squirm from where my small frame was still being held up by my father gripping my collar. 

“I’m sorry Lavender, I'll have Camella bake you a fresh batch if you would like” my father offered.

I looked up at the adults talking over my head. “Hey I still have ‘em here in my pocket” I explained. Reaching in I pulled out a handful of crushed cookies.

My father sighed and Mrs. Greenwood let off a noise that sounded an awful lot like a growl. “I’ll be waiting for your wife’s delivery,” the woman declared turning on her stubby legs and hobbling back to her little cottage. I stuck my tongue out at her back. 

“Arbor” my father spoke scoldingly. 

“What?!” I exclaimed “she’s a mean old woman!” 

My dad let off a breath “that’s not-” he was cut off by a tearing noise and in the next moment my butt was in the snow. I looked up to see the torn collar of my coat in my father’s hand. “Let’s go home,” he declared defeatedly. “We’ll talk there” 

I followed my father through our small village. Cradled in a little glen it was a peaceful, wintery world all to our own. It was mostly filled with Dryads like my family and Mrs. Greenwood but we had the occasional animal friend who came to say. The Beavers who lived in the nearby dam came over every once and awhile to buy some things and a family of deer had a hollow down the road. 

It was a calm place most of the time. However there were times when we would hear the bells of the queen’s carriage or the pounding feet of the security police pack and would have to go inside. Those times me and mother would wait in the back room until father came and got us. To tell us things were safe. 

When me and father got home the first thing he did was take my coat and dump the pockets into the trash bin. Which I felt was a great waste. Then we headed into the kitchen where my mother was cooking. “Darling is that you?” she called over her shoulder. 

“It’s both of us” my father replied “someone got in trouble with Lavender Greenwood again” 

“Hey she’s the one that hordes all those goodies she bakes” I argued “and I’m not the only one who steals them” 

“Yes you’re just the one who gets caught the most” my mother chuckled turning around. She came over to the pair of us “i’ll make Lavender a new batch of cookies” she looked down at me squinting her eyes “oh look you’ve got dirt on your face” she murmured raising her apron to wipe my cheeks. 

“Mom” I whined. “It’s just a little dirt from Mrs. Greenwood’s garden.” she continued to scrub at my face “why are you making her cookies anyway? She’s the mean one who’s always glaring” 

My mother sighed, apparently giving up on getting my face clean. “How about I double the recipe then and we can keep the extra batch?”

“I quite like that plan” I smiled as she stood. 

“Oh so you’re rewarding our little thief here now are you?” my father inquired of my mother with a smirk. 

“Well Mrs. Greenwood is quite the grouchy old woman” mother pointed out. I gave my father a proud smirk having said something very similar earlier. 

“What am I to do with you two?” the man of the house sighed. 

“Love us” I cheered. 

“I quite like that answer” mother laughed lightly. Then she noticed my father holding my coat. “Oh what happened to your coat?” she inquired coming over. 

“Dad ripped it” I pointed up at the man quickly. 

“Nice” he grumbled down at me. 

I shrugged “it’s the truth” 

“Alright well we’ll get this fixed up then” the woman declared taking up the torn fabric. She sat it off to the side and returned to making dinner. 

“Come here kid” my father picked me up and sat me on the table. “We have to talk about all this stealing you’ve been doing. Mrs. Greenwood’s cookies, yarn from Mr. Orchard.” 

“It’s not stealing” I objected “it’s borrowing” 

“Do you return it?” my father inquired. I didn’t answer because I knew he was right “exactly now you can’t do that alright. Your five years old Arbor you have to understand. People work hard to make or earn the things you just take.” 

“But I work hard to take them,” I explained. “I had to wait for an hour outside Mrs. Greenwood’s window for her to place the cookies out and then even longer for them to cool off.” 

I heard my mother chuckle and my father sighed “listen Arbor things have value beyond just the work you put into them. Things like the value of promises and hope and love” my father sighed and sat down. “Here I’ll tell you a story. There once was a great king of Narnia. A king by the name of Aslan back in a time when our people would dance and bloom. Green grassy hills and fields filled with colorful flowers, petals drifting on the wind. Great celebrations with singing and dancing with the fauns and centaurs and all the other creatures of the wood.” 

“That sounds incredible,” I explained. “You would dance outside in the snow?” 

“There was no snow then” the man objected “Before this eternal winter there was once the four seasons. There was spring where things would grow and bloom and we’d have rainy days to splash in puddles. Summer where it would get so hot in the day we would all relax in the shade and play music, we’d have bonfires and tell stories. Autumn when all the trees would turn beautiful colors and we would harvest the fields preparing great feasts and parties. Then when winter would come it would be a short time where we’d go sledding, build snowmen, snuggle inside with warm drinks, and give gifts to one another” 

“Wow” I exclaimed in awe imagining such a world “what happened?” 

My father’s joyous smile faltered “it was stolen away from us by the White Witch.” my father explained he glanced over at my mother who had been watching us as she cooked. Her face heavy, and rigid in concern and sadness. “She came and she stole and she destroyed, Arbor. She took our joy and our happiness she took all the magic from our beautiful world and filled it with winter and sadness and fear” 

“That’s awful” I murmured looking out the window at the white snow falling outside.  

“She stole Arbor and she destroyed this entire land do you understand now why you must never steal what belongs to another?” he asked. 

I nodded quickly “but there has to be some way to end this winter? I want to see spring, summer, autumn” 

My father smiled warmly. Then looked around as if he expected us to be overheard before scooting closer. “There is a prophecy left to us by Aslan.” he cleared his throat dramatically before continuing “it goes: When Adam’s flesh and Adam’s bone sits in Car Paraval in throne the evil time will be over and done.” 

“Wow” I breathed, keeping my voice low in a mirror of his “what does it mean?” 

“It means that one day two sons of Adam and two daughters of Eve. In other words two human boys and two human girls will come into this land and vanquish the White Witch restoring all we once had to Narnia” 

I let off an excited giggle “they’ll bring spring back?” I questioned loudly. 

“Shh shh” my father hushed lightly “yes they will.” he sighed and reached a hand out to touch my cheek “oh and my dear Arbor I hope you get to see it” 

There was a moment of silence in the house before mother sighed “alright you two enough story time” she decreed. “Burian I need you to go pick me some more apples for the crumble” 

“I can do it mom” I exclaimed jumping from the table. “I want to go see Malic” 

“Oh alright but your coat is torn” my mother observed. 

“Here she can borrow mine, it's not that far to Malic’s orchard,” my father offered. He picked his jacket from the back of his chair and wrapped it around me. It smelled like him, warm and comforting. Like pine needles and old wood. The jacket was far too large for me made of brown leather, however it didn’t drag on the ground and I could move in it. “There that should suffice for your small journey” 

“Here” Mother handed me a basket. “Alright now it’s getting late so off to Malic’s and then straight back here for dinner” 

“Yes ma’am” I nodded in agreement as I shuffled to the door. “I love you!” 

“Love you too darling” father replied. 

“Love you” my mother also voiced kissing my forehead and then ushering me out the door. 

I ran down the snowy lane. Weaving past ice patches and giving an extra big smile to the glowering Mrs. Greenwood as I passed by her Cottage. Entering the woods I navigated among the trees with practiced ease. I reached my destination with a happy squeal. 

“Malic!” I greeted the aged apple tree. He rustled his branches in greeting. I reached up and placed a hand to his trunk leaning in. I felt the life rushing below and within his bark. I felt a weight hit my arm and looked to see an apple had fallen into my basket. “Oh thank you mother sent me to collect some for a crumble she’s making.” I explained. 

Malic reached down with his branched and I climbed up among them. I loved going high up into the air and looking out at the woods. Sitting in his branches I began to pick offered apples and tell him the grand story my father had told to me. Malic allowed me to jabber at him for a long time before I finally realized the sun was setting behind me and it was getting dark. 

“Oh I have to go, my mother said to be back quickly” I told the tree. “I’ll be back tomorrow though” I promised. Malic let me down from his branches and I began to run back toward the village waving goodbye to my friend. 

I weaved among the growing shadows of the trees, my feet crunching in the snow. I was nearly out of the woods when I was brought to a stop as a scream split the air. Fear suddenly shot through my veins as my breathing picked up. I started forward again slowly as firelight came into view. I entered the glen and dropped my basket with a gasp at the sight. People were running around madly two of the houses of the village burned and another began to catch. 

Statues that looked a lot like people I knew stood along the street in frozen images of terror. Shielding themselves from whatever was about to attack them. Standing there in the middle of it, just as frozen as the statues around her, crystal white with a gleaming scepter in her hand admiring the chaos with a look that could only be described as a chilling evil. The White Witch. 

I stood there staring as screaming was all around me just looking at her. Then someone grabbed my arm. I turned to see the panicked eyes of Mrs. Greenwood. “Arbor, come this way quickly!” she whispered urgently and dragged me off toward her house. We came inside and she pulled me over to a place on the floor. Lifting a hatch she rushed me down into the little crawl space below. “Stay here” she whispered hurriedly looking over her shoulder. 

“Where’s my mom and dad?” I asked desperately. 

“Shhh” she hushed me quickly. “Just stay quiet and stay hidden. Arbor please stay here until everything is quiet please promise me”

“I promise” I agreed, too terrified to do much else. She closed the hatch and I heard what sounded like her slapping the carpet back over it. The small space suddenly became very dark. I curled up into myself and listened.

There were screams and crashing and yelling and the roar of fire and things falling more screaming. I covered my ears and rolled on my side burying my head into my father’s jacket. Praying for peace. 

It was a long time before there was finally peace. I remained hidden in the darkness long after there was silence listening in fear. However, eventually I rose from my place on the floor and pushed on the hatch with my shaking hands. Slowly it creaked open. Climbing out I looked around. The house above was trashed, the table overturned and the door crashed in. Gentle morning light was pouring in from every crack in the walls and through the shattered glass in the window. 

Slowly I walked forward. Every step sounded far too loud in the chilling quiet. I exited the house and looked around in despair. Half the village was burned to the ground. The street was empty. I walked on down the road heading for home. Praying that it was safe hoping my parents were there waiting for me. Hoping they would be there to tell me everything was alright. The more I thought of them the faster I went until I was running around the corner to my house. 

I stopped dead in my tracks. It was gone. The entire home was ruble. Burnt to a chard crisp. I felt tears threatening my eyes as I looked around and didn’t see anyone. “Mom? Dad?” I called into the silence. There was no response “Mom?! Dad?!” I called louder. Still nothing I called again and my voice broke as my knees buckled. They were gone. 

running a tumblr blog is really just being like I’ve become obsessed with this new thing and now I’m going to make it everyone else’s problem

The Life Series

This is a series I'm doing that's going to chronicle the Pevensie's lives if they would have stayed after the Prince Caspian movie. Starting with a young dryad growing up in the White Witch's reign. To the Pevensie's triumpant return to fight the telmarines. Moving on to an awkward courtship, a small expedition on the high seas with pirates (or maybe two expeditions), a king determined not to fall in love, and then a new generation carving their own stories into the Narnian world. It's the life of a family and of a nation and it's just like any life should be: A grand adventure!

It’s here: Book 1- Chapter 1 

The Derivative  Chapter 13: I Know

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 12 

“Well I didn’t exactly have a lot of options” I argued, hopping out of the car. 

“Maybe not but that sounds like an odd one for a snack” Alan stated getting out and grabbing the grocery bag in the back seat. 

“Ugh you sound like my mother” I grumbled as we headed toward the house. 

“Greetings friends” we turned at the call to see Larry walking up the drive. 

“Oh Larry what brings you here?” Alan greeted. 

“Well I was looking for Charles with the intention of spurring him into action on some of the math he promised me” the man explained. 

“Hey Larry you haven’t heard anything about my acceptance at CalSci yet have you?” I asked as we headed to the front door. 

“I’m afraid not but rest assured me and your uncle are keeping our ears to the metaphorical ground for any word from the admission board” Larry replied. 

I let off groan “I hate waiting” 

“Don’t worry, I'm sure they’ll accept you. You’re a great student” Alan assured me. 

“Well who knows I mean the school does get similar applications from young gifted applicants each year so” the physicist ended his statement with a shrug. 

I let out a breath still very anxious about the whole thing “thank you for that Larry” Gramps muttered with an annoyed edge as he opened the front door. “Hey Charlie” 

We headed into the house to see Charlie sitting at the table looking over some papers with a woman. “Hey, this is officer Morris of the California Highway patrol” the professor introduced the woman who smiled. Then he gestured to us “this is my father, my niece, and Dr. Fleinhardt” 

“Oh, please don’t tell me you got another speeding ticket?” Alan joked. 

“Actually your son’s helping me with an accident investigation” Officer Morris explained rising from her seat to shake my grandfather’s hand and then Larry’s, then mine “we’re trying to figure out what caused it.” 

“I didn’t know you were consulting for the CHP. Are you?” Alan inquired. 

“Don’s case” Charlie clarified. 

“Oh so this is why he ditched me here instead of taking me to the movies on his day off like he promised” I spoke with a slight edging looking at the documents laid out on the table. 

“Yeah? What sort of accident involved the FBI?” Larry questioned. 

“Prison bus crash” Morris informed. 

“The one I saw on the news.” Gramps inferred. “The bus with the escaped convicts? Don is working on that, huh?” Alan muttered the last bit as he sat down the grocery bag. 

“Yeah. Why?” Charlie questioned most likely sensing the same change in Alan’s demeanor as I had. 

“Oh nothing” Alan brushed the matter off as Larry took a seat at the table “it’s just that your brother was working on fugitive recovery once for a while, uh, anyway” he shook his head. 

“Appears to be basic Newtonian mechanics” Larry observed “the stuff of first-year engineering students. Now why are these elementary equations so captured your imagination?” 

“Well, the confluence of so many unrelated factors coming together at a given point in time” Charlie explained “it’s actually quite a fascinating approach to Bayesian inference as applied to the analysis of time series data.” 

“Yeah well as far as I know anytime an accident happens it’s because somebody made a mistake” Alan declared. “Am I right?” 

“Actually most car crashes happen because of one overestimating their own ability, to make a turn or get through a light. Willing choices that’s why the common public word accident is a misnomer and reports call them crashes.” I informed absently then paused as all the adults’ eyes shifted to me “I read it once” I shrugged. 

“This coming from the girl who doesn’t even have a license” Alan pointed out and I shot him a glare.  

“Either way that’s what we’re trying to figure out.” Morris spoke up “whether there was a mistake and what it was” 

“The answer’s not that simple” Charlie voiced as Alan pulled out his sandwich and went to open a beer I reached around him to grab my sandwich from the bag. “I mean, coincidences are a mathematical reality. Statistically unlikely events can and often do occur. Just look at the genesis of our planet.” 

“Well now, I agree that the factors that brought about life on earth were statistically unlikely” Larry mused “but given the vastness of the cosmos, the limitless possibilities for matter and energy. I’m with Einstein on this. There are no accidents.” 

____________

“I can understand the fascination of kinematic equations when working alongside an attractive female police officer” Larry voiced as we watched Charlie set up his little reenactment. “But, all the lawn equipment?” 

“What you said about the confluence of the cosmos triggered a thought” Charlie explained “Abby you’re sitting in the road” he muttered shoeing me away so he could set down a skateboard. I scooted over to the side of the path. 

“Ah, note to self: Never talk quantum theory again.” Larry voiced. 

“The initial velocity of the bus barely exceeds that of the flatbed.” Charlie elaborated “the gap between them closing slowly, approximately two feet per second.” he moved the wheel barrel up. 

“And then along comes the skateboard?” Larry questioned. 

“That’s right, the pick up truck” Uncle C confirmed “the pick up truck pulls along the right side of the bus” he demonstrated with the skateboard’s movement. “Its velocity is 13 miles per hour greater than that of the bus. Now at this point the gap between the bus and the flatbed truck is at least..” he paused reaching for the paper in the wheelbarrow. 

“84 feet” I supplied having seen the paper. 

“Okay, that’s ample enough room for the pickup to safely maneuver in front of the bus” Larry declared. 

“However” Charlie objected, continuing to manipulate the lawn equipment “the gap suddenly closed. The pickup veers in front of the bus forcing the bus to maneuver and hit the guardrail which causes it to torque and flip onto its side” I tilted my head as Charlie turned the wheelbarrow over. 

“How did that gap close so quickly between the bus and the flatbed?” Larry inquired. 

“Acceleration or deceleration” I voiced. 

“Precisely.” Charlie nodded “two possibilities. One, the bus greatly increased its velocity.” 

“No no no” Larry dissuaded that idea “given the mass of the bus, that’s extremely unlikely.” 

I craned my neck as I saw Don’s car pulling up to the house. “Or two, the flatbed truck reduced its speed at the critical moment, causing the pickup to veer in front of the bus.” 

“That’s it” Larry determined with the snap of his fingers “the flatbed slowed down”

“That’s right,” Charlie agreed. 

“And that doesn’t mean anything good” I muttered letting out a breath. 

“It would also mean” Larry mused. 

“A Markov chain” Charlie finished the thought. 

“Exactly” Larry muttered. 

“Gentlemen and lady” Don greeted us as he walked up “what’s all this?” he looked over the reenactment. 

“Just trying to make sense of something that doesn’t make sense” Charlie explained. 

“Thought that’s what you do best,” Don sighed. “What, uh, what’s the problem?” 

“Well, apparently, that seed spreader” Larry voiced. 

Don gave a confused look and Charlie quickly jumped in “t-the flatbed truck” 

“What- what about it?” Don inquired. 

“The crash wasn’t an accident” Charlie informed. “Don, it was staged.” 

“You’re sure?” Don pressed. 

“Mathematically certain” I declared Don shot me a look “it’s lawn equipment and simple math please don’t lecture me on not helping” 

Don sighed “fine later” he grumbled then turned to Charlie “think you can work up a model to show at the office?” 

“That’s an easy matter of imputing these findings into a computer simulation” Charlie explained. 

“Maybe the cute CHP lady officer can help you” I teased my uncle. 

“Cute CHP lady officer?” Don questioned turning to his brother who shot me an annoyed look. 

“It’s not like that,” Charlie objected. 

“Sure Charles, sure” Larry murmured and we all shared a laugh at the mathematician's expense. 

________________

3rd POV. 

“All these different events and factors from the initial velocity of the bus to its final torque” Charlie explained to Don and Agent Cooper “all of these create what’s called a Markov Chain.” 

“What kind of Chain?” Cooper questioned. 

“Markov. A sequence of random values where the probabilities at any given time depend on the values at a previous time.” Charlie attempted to elaborate “the controlling factor in a Markov chain is called the transitional probability. Now in this case the bus reaches a certain point in the road just as the truck blocks the lane, just as the pickup cuts off the bus.” the professor gestured to his diagram. 

“Which tells you it wasn't an accident?” Don asked with minor confusion. 

“Bayesian statistics and the Chapman-Kolmogorov equation tell me that.” Charlie clarified. 

“Are you sure you’re his brother?” Billy joked to Don. 

“Yeah, you think he’s freaky smart you should meet my kid” Don replied off handedly focusing on Charlie and missing the double take Cooper gave him. 

“If the flatbed truck had maintained its initial velocity, well then the pickup should have enough space to roam freely past the bus safely.” Charlie continued “but it didn’t.” he pressed a button going to the next image “the truck slowed down just as the right moment just as the pickup timed its move, forcing the bus to veer violently and overturn.” 

“So the pickup driver and the flatbed guy are in on it,” Don deduced. 

“Only the gardener’s missing” Cooper muttered. 

“Let’s go find that truck driver” Don declared getting up and Billy following after him. “Good job Charlie thanks” 

Don and Cooper exited the meeting room and headed through the bullpen. “So uh that comment about you having a kid that serious?” Billy asked as they paused by Don’s desk so he could grab his jacket. 

Don let off a breath, his brain somehow just realizing that his former partner would have no way of knowing about Abby appearing in Don’s life a little less than a year ago. “Uh yeah um kind of a long story but uh you remember that girl from college I mentioned Janice Calvin?” Don asked as they headed toward the elevator. 

“Yeah the one left you a note and went back home?” Cooper recalled. 

“Yeah, well, turns out she was pregnant. And what will be a year ago soon I got this knock on my door from a social worker telling me she died and left a kid behind. And my name’s on the birth certificate” Don explained. 

Cooper let off a breath “that’s crazy man.” 

“You’re telling me” Don muttered as they entered the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. “Still it’s been good having her in my life you know? Her name’s Abby and she just tested out of highschool as a sophomore applied to college for next semester” 

“Really?” Cooper nodded then a slight smirk came to his features “so out of all these geniuses in your family how the heck did you end up like this?” 

“Ah” Don scoffed, giving his friend a shove as the doors opened and they headed out chuckling. 

__________

Abby POV. 

“Why am I here?” I muttered in annoyance. 

“Because I find this interesting,” Alan whispered back. 

“That explains why you’re here, not why I am” I grumbled turning the page of my book. 

“Well, if you’d quiet down you might just learn something” Alan suggested. I sighed and looked up at Uncle Charlie who was standing in front of a black baord that read “Math for Non-Mathematicians''

“Most people believe that they can trust their instincts” Uncle C explained “however, math suggests that our instincts aren’t always correct” he bent down and picked up a couple big white boards and big red X’s off the ground. “We’re gonna play a little game.” he declared, setting out the white cards on stands “I want you all to pretend that we’re on a game show, and I’m your cheesy game show host. And behind one of these cards is a brand new automobile.” he added a joking deepness to his voice at that last line that elicited some laughs from the audience of the class “and behind the other two are goats. Yeah, goats.” I rolled my eyes and turned back to my story.”I’m going to need a volunteer” I glanced up making sure my uncle wasn’t thinking of choosing me as a couple hands went up “come on, more of you than that. Come on.” he encouraged, receiving a couple laughs in response “Julie” he finally selected. “Why don’t you pick one of these cards? Remembering of course the object is to win the car, not the goat.” 

“I’ll take the one in the middle” Julie chose. 

“She takes the middle card” Charlie declared, sticking an X to the card. “And what are the chances that that card is the winning card?” 

“One in three” Julie answered. 

“Three choices, one car. Right?” Charlie clarified “one in three, it’s simple enough, right? Now, here’s where the game’s gonna take a turn. I’m going to reveal to you one of the cards that you did not choose” he reached to the card on the right and flipped it around to reveal a goat “So, we have two cards yet to be revealed. Now, knowing what you know, do you want to switch your choice? Or more importantly for the purposes of this class, does it matter? Will switching your choice improve your chances of winning?” 

“Yes switch it” I muttered under my breath going back to my book. Alan gave me a side look. 

“Well no. because now, two cards it’s 50/50, right?” Julie replied to the teacher. 

“How many people agree with her?” Charlie asked. 

“Don’t raise your hand” I mumbled sarcastically, turning the page of my book. Inevitable people did though most of the class in fact Alan looked around surprised. 

“That’s what your instinct tells you, but you’d be wrong.” Charlie explained. “Switching your cards at this point actually doubles your chances of winning the car.” 

“How?” Julie questioned. 

“Well, since we started out with two goats,” Charlie explained “it’s more likely that your first choice was a goat. What are the odds of choosing the goats?”

“Two out of three” Julie answered. 

“Right. So it’s more likely that this is a goat, less likely that it’s a car” the professor gestured to the center card “and it’s more likely that this card is a car” he pointed to the card on the left. “See switching your choice gives you a two-out-of-three chance of winning the car, rather than the one-out-of-three chance that we all began with.” he revealed the left card as the car to make his point. “Vroom vroom” he joked making the class chuckle. “You won a car, Julie. Congratulations.'' Then Uncle Charlie paused his eyes drifting to the back of the room before he checked his watch. “I think. Yeah, yeah, we’re out of time.” I looked back to see Don standing in the back of the room with another man who I could assume was another agent. “So uh, go home make some of these for yourselves. Put together some reasonable “n” samples, and uh.. Yeah see what happens. I’ll see you all next week. thanks.” 

The students began to disperse and Alan followed my line of sight to Don and the other agent. He got up and I followed him back to the two men. “Hey Dad, what are you two doing here?” 

“Oh I like coming whenever Charlie gives one of these math-for-dummies lectures. It’s the only time I actually understand what he’s talking about” Gramps explained “plus this one needed to get out of the house I couldn’t stand anymore anxious pacing about this acceptance letter” 

“Hey I wasn’t pacing” I objected adjusting my backpack on my shoulders “much” 

“This is Billy Cooper” Don introduced the man next to him. “He’s an agent I work with.” 

“Hi” Alan greeted him with a hand shake “we’ve met before, haven’t we?” 

“oh, yeah.” Don murmured “I couldn’t remember” 

“You worked a case with Don out here once?” Alan guessed. 

“Back in the day, yes, sir” Agent Cooper confirmed and glanced between me and my Grandfather. 

“Donnie, can I talk to you for a minute?” Alan requested. 

“Yeah, sure.” Don agreed and looked to Billy “just give me a second” him and Alan shuffled out of the room. 

Agent Cooper turned to me “you must be Abby then” he inquired and I nodded “uh so your uh old man mentioned that you were some kind of genius like your Uncle” he gestured vaguely to where Charlie was packing up his stuff from class. 

“Um yeah I have a decent IQ and an Advanced Eidetic Memory” I explained shifting on my feet. 

“What’s that mean?” the agent asked. 

“I have near perfect visual memory recall especially when I read” I explained gesturing to the book in my hand. 

“Cool” Cooper nodded and glanced out the doorway to where Don and Alan were still talking. 

“So you work with my dad?” I inquired blinking as the last word came out of my mouth easier than I thought. 

“Yup” Cooper smiled “me and Don actually used to be partners back in the day when he worked fugitive recovery. Made a great team” 

I smiled slightly “that’s cool” 

“Hey agent Cooper” Charlie cut in as he came over to greet the agent. 

________ 3rd POV. 

Don walked with his father out of the room and into the courtyard outside. “Um- wh-what are you doing? What’s going on?” Alan asked, turning to Don once they were out of earshot. 

“What are you talking about?” Don asked, confused. 

“Well, I- I haven’t seen you for days. Not since you dropped Abby off.” Alan pointed out. 

“I’m working,” Don explained. 

“Yeah, I know, Charlie told me.” Alan informed “Are you going back to manhunting now?” 

“Oh, I see. Dad, come on” Don sighed in annoyance. “Don’t. This is one case.” 

“I seem to recall your saying that about only one case once before,” Alan pointed out, “but, if you remember, they were not good days for you, or for me. I mean, we didn’t hear from you for weeks. We didn’t even know where the hell you were.” 

“Dad-” Don tried to interject but failed. 

“You do realize that uh, chasing after someone you could be running away from yourself at the same time” Alan stated. “And now you’re a father Donnie, you have a daughter in there that relies on you and you have a responsibility to her. Have you even talked to her the last couple days?” 

“Yes dad, of course I have'' Don finally interjected agitated. Then he sighed “contrary to what you might think I don’t plan to abandon her” 

Before Alan could respond to that statement or before Don could process the emotions it set forth Charlie was joining them with Abby and Billy right behind him. Don looked at Abby for a moment as Charlie greeted them and asked Alan about his lecture. 

Sometimes it was easy for him to forget she was a kid with how her brain worked and how stubbornly independent she could be. However, with her duct taped and sharpied shoes and ratty backpack she wouldn’t let him buy her replacements for, fading freckles and various superhero and tv show related t-shirts. She really was every bit the teenager her age dictated. A teenager who Don knew needed her father. 

____________

“Hey” Don called walking up as Coop was loading up his car “So you’re out of here?” 

“Heading to Phoenix.” Billy sighed “meth tweaker I been chasing.” 

“No chance we could get you to stick around?” Don asked helping him with the bags “maybe put in for a position around here?” 

“What, and settle down?” Billy chuckled. 

“Hey, it’s not bad Coop, I gotta tell you.” Don advised leaning on the car. 

“You don’t miss it?” Cooper inquired. 

“No. Not really, no” Don shook his head. 

“The rush you get when you’re hauling his ass in,” Coop tempted “your fugitive’s a couple hours ahead of you and you’re closing ground.” 

“Alright, maybe a little,” Don conceded. “Hey, but not being in touch with my family, not being able to talk to anybody, I don’t miss that.” he took a deep breath “I don’t know, I think LA’s good for me.” 

“Well” Coop sighed closing his trunk “plus you’re a dad now” 

Don chuckled “yeah there’s that too” 

“Listen that kid’s lucky to have you.” Billy told him “and if she’s anything like her old man she got a good future ahead of her” 

“Thanks man” Don sighed as the two shook hands walking back toward the drivers side of the car “keep your head down, huh?” 

“I’ll do that,” Billy nodded, getting in his car to leave. 

___________

“You do realize watching out the window isn’t going to make him get here any sooner right?” Alan voiced. 

Abby sighed and slid down to sit on the couch. “What’s taking so long,” she whined. 

“Relax kid,” Don advised, taking a sip of his beer. “He’ll get here soon” 

“Easy for you to say” Abby grumbled. Just then the door of the house opened and the trio sitting in the living room turned as Charlie walked in. 

Abby bounced to her feet. “Do you have it? Do you have it?” she asked eagerly. 

“Hello to you too” Charlie mumbled earning him a glare from his niece. “It’s right here” he held up the letter from the schools admissions office. 

Abby took the letter and looked it over like it was some rare artifact. She let off a slow breath. “You want me to open it?” Don asked after a moment. 

“No,” Abby objected then took a deep breath and tore the envelope open pulling out the paper inside. 

The three men watched as her eyes scanned over it abnormally fast for the average person. Then another second before a large smile spread over her face. 

“I got in” she whispered almost inaudibly then began to repeat it louder jumping up and down in joy “I got in! I got in! I got in!” she stopped and whisked over to where Don was sitting “Dad! Dad! Dad! Look! I even got a scholarship!” 

“I can see that” Don murmured looking at the paper that was thrust into his hand “nice job kid” 

“We knew you could do it,'' Alan encouraged with a smile. 

“I’m going to go call Amita and tell her” Abby declared “this is awesome!” with that she ran from the room. 

“Donnie, uh,” Alan spoke up after a moment “you are aware she just called you dad right? Without uh any snarky backdrop or anything” 

Don smiled lightly eyes still on the acceptance letter “yeah I know” 

Chapter 14 -> 

Preferred Name

The other day a friends parent introduced me to some of her friends by my preferred name. It made me so happy in the moment I could barely mutter a greeting because she was the first adult in my life who knew me before by my birth name and made the intentional change to my preferred name. It got me thinking about preferred names and this came to my mind as a message to those who don’t call others by their preferred names:

Imagine you work with a person. Not in close proximity but you know of each other. Imagine one of your mutual coworkers as a joke tells this person that your preferred name is Bucket.

This person takes that information and continues to refer to you as Bucket even correcting other coworkers into call you by that name. You don’t know where the source is so you can’t stop it. And this continues for years.

Then finally you two get moved and start working together regularly. You finally get the chance to correct this person on what your really name is.

Their response: “but I’ve always known you as Bucket calling you anything else would be so hard. So I’ll just call you Bucket if that’s okay”

This continues. They call you Bucket every time you speak. They introduce you to new people as Bucket they call you Bucket in front of large groups of people and people who know your real name who get confused.

They don’t stop and when you correct them their response is: “sorry but it’s just hard to change and remember”

Wouldn’t you be frustrated? Wouldn’t you be annoyed? Wouldn’t you be uncomfortable?

Respect people. Respect their names. Don’t make excuses. It’s not hard to understand.

writing should be fun.

make oc playlists. spend hours on moodboards that have no purpose. write self-indulgent fluff that’s never going to be published. scribble three lines of poetry in the back of your history notebook. draw fanart of your own characters. write stupid dialogue that your publishers might hate. start new wips that you might never finish but write those three chapters that make you happy because if you don’t write them, who else will?

writing shouldn’t always be about “will publishers like this” or “i have to reach this word count” or “how do i get the most likes”.

have fun with your writing.

The Derivative Chapter 12: Tests

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 11

I let off a breath closing one text book I’d finished and moving to the next. “You know there’s a difference between learning and memorizing right?” Amita pointed out with a scoff glancing at me over top her laptop screen. 

“I am aware. One is knowing the other is understanding but for me they can understandably get intermingled” I explained as I began to go through the next book. 

Amita nodded “you’re really stressing about this test you have to do for school huh?” 

“Well it is kinda a big deal. The whole prospect of my graduating early is riding on it. That and me getting accepted into college” I explained. 

“Oh really what are you looking to study?” Amita inquired. 

“Mathematics like my uncle probably, maybe something a bit more hands on to” I explained. 

“You know combinatorics is a great field” she offered. 

I scoffed “if you don’t say so yourself” 

We both giggled “seriously though you should look at applying for CalSci. You could stay local. They have a history of accepting young brilliant minds and programs especially made for those who have spotty school records.” 

“You know Larry was saying something similar before” I voiced “maybe I will think about it.” 

“Plus I’ve been considering staying at CalSci longer to get my second PhD in physics so you’d have another friendly face on campus other than Charlie and Larry” 

“Seriously?” I thought about hanging around CalSci with the brainiac trio. “That sounds really cool”

“I think it’d be cool too and we could take you on a tour of the campus sometime even, you know, show you around” Amita offered. 

I smiled “yeah that’d be great” 

Just then my friend's phone went off and she answered it “hello? … yeah sure I’ll be right there.” she hung up and started packing her things. “Charlie needs my help for a case with Don.” she informed. 

“I can come-” 

“He said specifically not to bring you even if you asked. Sorry” Amita told me sympathetically. 

“Ugh eighteen can not come soon enough” I groaned. 

“There, there” Amita murmured teasingly, patting me on the shoulder as she headed out of the house. 

______________________________

“You know when you offered to take me on a campus tour I thought I’d see more than the computer lab” I voiced as the trio finished retesting their flight route math for a third time in the CalSci computer lab. 

“I’m sorry but this is very important for the case Don’s working on” Charlie breathed out then thought for a minute “by the way I would appreciate you not telling him I allowed you to help with this math” 

“Don’t worry Uncle C, unlike some people I can keep a secret” I muttered. The man shot me a look but let the subject go as we all mulled over what we might have missed. 

“I don’t get it,” Uncle Charlie declared finally from his seat on the table behind where Amita was working. “The aircraft should have originated from an airfield that the FBI checked out” 

“Maybe they didn’t use an airfield” I suggested from where I sat next to the computer. “Like a highway or something” 

“Well then there would have been witnesses” Amita pointed out to the contrary. 

“You know, here’s where I get reductive on your ass,” Larry spoke up standing “cause you keep saying aircraft but so far no one’s been able to identify whatever it was that people saw.” 

“What are you saying, Larry?” Amita questioned. 

“I’m saying instead of building a flight path, let’s try focusing on the object itself,” Larry suggested. 

“You know what?” Charlie spoke up, hopping off his table “he’s right.” 

“Wait, you're agree that it could be a UFO?” I inquired of my uncle. 

“No, but focusing on the craft might yield better results.” The man explained coming over “We could get a visual of the object by building in all the radar sources at the same time, yes, civilian and military.” 

“So overlap the radar sources?” Amita clarified as she began to type into the computer. 

“That’s right” Charlie confirmed “by layering the images we could build a three dimensional cross section of it” 

Amita typed on the computer for a moment and we all leaned in to see “there” she finally declared “now it’s working off of all seven radar sources.” 

“And it’s building an image of the object,” Larry added. 

We watched as slowly an image began to appear. What we saw looked surprisingly Sci-fi. “Charlie? Is that what I think it is?” Amita inquired. 

“Larry I’m sorry I doubted you” I muttered. 

“Now, le-let’s be very, very careful” Charlie stammered “we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions or make any assumptions. There could be any number of reasons why that looks like-” 

“A vehicle from another part of the universe” Larry finished Charlie’s statement. 

___________

3rd POV.

“Hey Charlie” Don greeted his brother knocking on the door to the office space the professor was using in the library. 

“Hey” the young brother replied, writing on a piece of paper. 

“What’s up?”  

“Just grading tests for my Nonlinear Dynamics class.” Charlie informed. 

“Glad to see you’re taking my advice and having some fun” Don commented. 

“Well, you don’t look like you’ve been having too much fun” the younger brother pointed out, eyeing his brother as Don sat down. 

Don sighed “aw man this Gosnell case. Not to mention Abby has to take that test today in school to see if she can get out early.” 

“I’m sure she’ll pass” Charlie reassured “and you know Amita’s already talked her into applying for CalSci” 

“Yeah I’m just stressed on her behalf I guess” the older brother explained “and anyway with this case I just had to tell a guy that his dad died” Don let off another breath slouching in his seat. 

Charlie put down his pencil and turned to give his brother more of his attention “I spent all that time trying to figure out where the plane went. Turns out the pilot didn’t even know, because the rudder was busted.” 

“See, that’s the thing” Don explained “I got to find out where he was headed, ‘cause I think that’s why he was killed. You got any ideas? Anything at all?” 

Charlie sighed packing up his papers and standing “maybe. Could I, uh could I get some data off the flight recorder?” 

“Yeah, I mean, I can see if, uh, Erica can drop some by.” Don offered. “Maybe Amita can help you out” A small smile came to Charlie’s face at the suggestion and Don couldn’t help the knowing grin that came to his face. “Dad said she’s sticking around.” 

“Did he?” Charlie asked, turning to his brother. 

“Well, you happy about that?” Don inquired. 

“Um, are you asking me as her thesis advisor or..?” Charlie ended with a slight chuckle. 

Don scoffed at the blush forming on his younger brother’s features “you tell me” 

“Yeah, I’m happy,” Charlie admitted. 

They were quiet for a moment then another thought occured to Don “hey, what’s the deal I thought you were playing golf today.” 

“Oh no.” Charlie quickly replied “you know, I’m really no use on the golf course.” 

Don sat up as his brother took the seat across from him again “Charlie you know why he likes playing with you, don’t you?” 

“I have no idea” Charlie voiced “because I-I’ve got to be the worst golfer in the history of the game” 

Don shook his head surprised that his genius of a little brother could be so clueless sometimes “No. it’s the one time he gets to teach you something. You understand?” he explained “I mean I’m learning for myself that it’s not easy raising a genius. That’s his one time” Don wasn’t sure Charlie got what he was saying but just then his phone went off “oh excuse me” he stood up to take the call. “Eppes” 

“Don” David’s voice answered “the forensic report from Gosnell’s workshop just came in. We found David Croft’s fingerprints all over the shop.” 

“But I thought you said he hadn’t seen him in years” Don questioned confused. 

“And so he said” David replied 

“All right, look, uh, take a team, pick him up” Don instructed, rubbing his forehead and the bridge of his nose with his hand “I’ll meet you at the office, okay?” 

“You got it,” David agreed before hanging up. 

Don pocketed his phone again “alright kid I got to go. See you later” he called to Charlie who nodded his farewell before Don was out the door. 

_________

“I pass the dang test and as a reward I get to come out here and watch you all golf in this heat” Abby complained “that’s so not fair” 

“Ah come on kid a little exercise never hurt anybody” Don objected “maybe you could try it out for yourself” 

“No thank you” the teenager replied edgily heading toward the bench with her backpack full of reading material. 

“Where’s Chuck?” Don asked, realizing his younger brother was not in sight. 

“I don’t know last I looked, he was right behind us.” Alan replied looking around. “Oh there he is” he voiced when they spotted the younger man coming up to the bench at another angle. 

“Hey dad,” Charlie called, dragging his clubs up the incline. “Your clubs weigh a ton” 

“Are you kidding, I've used those clubs for ten years” Alan replied looking in his own golf bag as Abby made herself comfortable on the bench. “There’s nothing wrong with them” 

“Dad, they’re older than he is,” Don pointed out, going over to look in Charlie’s bag. “I don’t even think they make wood clubs anymore.”

“Yeah I know” Alan said “but each one of ‘em’s got a great sweet spot.” 

“Put ‘em in a museum,” Don commented. 

“Eh, when Charlie gets better, I’ll buy him a set of his own” Alan offered. 

“Well isn’t that encouraging” Abby muttered already part way through the novel on her lap. 

“Come on, Charlie, maybe this is the day you’ll par a hole.” Alan suggested. 

“I’d just like to get the ball in the hole. That’s all” Charlie stated as Don came over to sit next to his daughter on the bench. 

“So you passed the test” Don spoke to his kid as Alan talked to his. “What’s next?” 

“I wait and hope CalSci accepts me,” Abby declared looking up from her book. “But who knows if that’s going to happen.” 

“Well aren’t you pessimistic” Don muttered. 

“Well Donald I had to get it from somewhere” Abby replied with a smirk. 

“Yeah your mother” Don stated with a slight grin. 

“Funny she said the same thing about you” Abby advised and the pair shared a laugh as Charlie came over to join them. 

“Alright Alan show us how it’s done” Don called to his father and the three watched as the eldest among them swung the golf club. 

Chapter 13 ->

The Derivative  Chapter 11: Prediction

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 10

My foot tapped repeatedly as I sat in a chair outside the principal's office. I had no idea why I had been called out of my english class to be here. Not that I was complaining about being taken out of a monotonous lecture on adjectives and adverbs. 

“Hey Abby” I looked up as the door opened and Mrs. Clive was there looking down at me. “Come on in” 

I grabbed my backpack and walked into the office, Clive closing the door behind me. Principal Brick was sitting behind his desk. I always thought his name fit his features with how square his head was. 

“Take a seat Abby” he offered, I nodded and sat down. Clive took the seat next to me. “I’ve heard a lot about you Ms. Calvin from Mrs. Clive here as well as your other teachers. Many of whom are concerned about certain behavioral issues you’ve shown since joining us here.” 

“If this is about that fight in the cafeteria I thought we had that sorted out I mean I didn’t cause it” I quickly defended myself sitting up in my seat. 

“We know Abby, that's not what we’re talking about” Clive reassured me. 

“Then what is it?” I asked, growing suspicious. 

Brick sat forward resting his hands on his desk. “To be completely honest with you Abby, originally we were led to believe by your social worker, a Mr. Grant, that your behavioral problems would be expected considering your history with the foster system and problematic past parent situation.” I shifted in my seat “however, Mrs. Clive has brought a different perspective onto the situation”

My head snapped to look at the teacher. She had a light smile on her face “I got into contact with a friend of mine Michelle Wiat she’s a principal at an elementary school it turned out you attended. She told me about the advanced courses she put you in College Algebra, Calculus. As well as your IQ testing she provided all the documentation as well” 

There was a moment where my brain was flustered hearing Ms. Wiat’s name again after so long. Then I finally collected my thoughts “so what does this mean? Are you finally putting me in advanced courses?” 

“Not exactly” Brick objected “we believe at this time that this school can no longer provide what you need to learn” 

“In other words we know you’re not thriving here” Clive cut in “so I’ve arranged here with Mr. Brick for you to possibly test out of high school” 

I was stunned at the news but felt excitement bubbling within me “serious like no more school?” 

“Part of it will require you to continue your education somewhere else such as college, university, or career center but you will no longer be attending high school” Brick explained. 

“This is awesome,” I cheered excitedly. 

“Don’t get too excited you’ll have to take a test to prove you’re capable and that’s only if your father approves all of this” Clive clarified. 

I felt my excitement hit a wall “my father?” 

“Yes we’ll be sending you home today with a note detailing everything and asking for a parent teacher conference to discuss any other issues that may come of this” Brick informed “since you are still a minor you can’t just make these decisions on your own” 

“Right” I murmured as Brick handed me a letter. 

“Don’t worry Abby this will all work out and then we’ll get to see what heights you’ll truly be able to reach” Clive reassured me with a hand on my shoulder. As I looked at the paper I didn’t feel as sure. 

_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

3rd POV. 

Abby sat out in the hallway at school. She was reading Twelve Years a Slave. The nine year old had been kicked out of her 4th grade class for calling another kid an asshole after he broke her pencils. 

“Abigail” she looked up at the familiar disappointed voice of the principal. 

“Hello” the girl greeted. “Call me Abby” 

The principal, Mrs. Wiat, sighed and sat down next to the girl. “Whatcha reading?” 

“Twelve Years a Slave” Abby replied, showing the teacher the book cover. 

“Advanced book for someone your age” The principal voiced genuinely surprised. 

“It’s a good read but I feel bad for Solomon. He just wants to escape his captivity.” Abby voiced “he didn’t ask for any of his problems he just got dragged into it” 

“Do you relate to him?” The woman pressed sensing something. 

Abby shrugged and didn’t make eye contact. “Maybe a little” 

“Abby, you know calling people mean things is wrong” The principal explained. 

“But he broke my pencils,” the girl defended. 

“I understand but lashing out isn’t the answer” Mrs. Wiat kept her voice even as she spoke. “Abby, you've been fighting with other kids and not doing your homework. Is there something going on at home? Something you want to tell me?” 

The girl shook her head quickly “no nothing” 

“Okay” the principal nodded. “Then why don’t you do your homework?” 

“Because isn’t the point of homework to practice the stuff you learn in class?” The fourth grader asked. 

“That’s right,” the principal nodded. “Which is why you need to do it to learn.” 

“But I already know the stuff,” Abby objected. “I mean I get perfect scores on the tests so why do I have to do the homework?” 

The principal found herself speechless at the fourth graders logic. “Because it factors into your grade” 

“Well what's more important in school for me to learn or for me to get good grades?” The girl challenged. 

“Abby” the principal sighed. Then a thought came to her “I want to send a note home with you for your mother” the principal explained “I want to talk to her and get you in a more advanced program at least for your reading level maybe math also” 

“Does this program have homework?” Abby questioned. 

The principal chuckled lightly “Unfortunately Abby all of life has homework.”

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Abby POV. 

“What you think he’ll say no?” Charlie asked as he moved some papers around on the table. 

“I don’t know what he’s going to say,” I exclaimed, my chin resting on the table the note from my teachers in my hands. “That’s the part that bothers me.” 

“Well then I suppose the only way to resolve that would be to ask him” Charlie argued. I let out a breath in a huff. “Listen Abby, you've been arguing to learn more advanced curriculum since you got here and I’d wager even before then. This is a great chance for you. I’m sure Don will see that and let you test out okay?” 

“Yeah” I murmured. “Don’t tell him about this though I want to be the first one to talk to him” 

“My lips are sealed” the mathematician vowed as he typed on his laptop. 

A moment later Alan came in from the kitchen and I folded the note and stuffed it in my pocket. “Hey,” he greeted “Charlie whatcha working on there?” 

“Sabermetrics” Uncle C replied with a sigh “baseball math found on a dead man’s computer Don’s having me look at it for a case” 

“Oh” Alan murmured a little put off from the dead man fact. He walked up behind Charlie peering over his shoulder “What do these formulas tell you?” 

“The ones I’ve recovered indicate that the Dodgers are not on the right track to win the pennant next year” Charlie informed. 

“Like you needed math to figure that one out, huh?” Gramps muttered. 

Charlie chuckled “no” 

“I heard that, uh, Don was leaning towards the wife.” Alan voiced. 

“That’s right,” Charlie confirmed. 

“Seems to be the first place they look nowadays” Alan mused. 

“I don’t understand” Charlie agreed “I mean, if you hate the person you’re married to that much, get divorced.” 

“Even the thought of divorce holds its own special horrors, let me tell you” Alan sighed. 

“Well, you and mom never thought about- I mean, I was never witness to any kind of-” Charlie stammered as his father leaned on a chair. 

“That’s exactly the way we wanted it.”  Alan explained. Charlie shifted in his chair, eyes still fixed on Alan urging him to continue “well, it was a long time ago, we, um. We had a little rough patch there for a moment, but we got through it.” 

Charlie closed his laptop slowly and I looked between the two men wondering where this conversation was going “how rough a patch are we talking about?” Uncle C questioned. 

“It was when you were 13 years old,” Alan offered willingly “and you went off to Princeton.” 

“Mom came with me,” Charlie added. 

“The separation was pretty hard on both of us” Alan admitted “and aside from the money matters, there was this irrational jealousy. Anyway, even the possibility of divorce was never discussed, because we loved each other too much.” 

“I don’t remember any of it,” Charlie murmured. “I don’t even remember a raised voice between the two of you.” 

“That’s because your mother and I both agreed that we wouldn’t stress you or Don any more than we had to.” Alan explained sitting down. “Charlie that’s how parents argue in front of their children; they disguise the big things as little things.” 

Charlie was quiet for a moment looking at his work. I stood up and made to leave the room a churning feeling in my gut. “Abby you alright?” Alan called after me. 

“Yeah, yeah fine I just, homework” I lied horribly but Gramps didn’t seem to be questioning it and I didn’t really give him time to before I was bolting up the stairs. 

I collapsed on the bed in Don’s old room. Charlie going to college early had put a huge strain on his parents' lives. What kind of strain would I be putting on Don if I graduated early? In all my nagging why hadn’t I considered how this would affect Don. After everything my mom went through and sacrificed for me growing up was I really going to make my other parent sacrifice for me too? Let alone one I’d only known for less than a year? 

I groaned and grabbed the pillow covering my face. When did my life get so complicated? 

_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_

3rd POV. 

Abby sat bored in yet another class at school. She glanced at the clock and sighed. Wondering how difficult it would be to slip out a side door during a passing block. The public library wasn’t too far from the school and it would be open at this time. 

Then her mom's words came back to her. She glanced around the class all of whom were still working on the algebra assignment she had already finished. How was she going to become friends with any of them? Most of them were upper middle class with well to do parents. Nice clothes, new backpacks, and cell phones. Abby wore thrift store clothes, had an old backpack that had seen better days, and never had a cell phone in her life. 

The bell rang jogging her from her thoughts. Gathering her things Abby headed out into the hallway. Going to the freshman lockers to ditch her stuff from algebra and grab her English stuff. 

They were reading “Of Mice and Men” which she had already read years prior. She remembered every word and had told her teacher as much but the woman had still insisted that Abby bring her copy to class everyday. Despite the obvious redundancy. 

“Hey gutter kid” Abby heard the call and turned just in time to get hit in the face by someone’s backpack. “Oops looks like Miss smarty pants isn’t much of a quick thinker.” 

Abby recovered quickly and looked to see who had thrown the bag. She wasn’t surprised to see a gaggle of laughing popular kids not far off. She looked down at the back pack and reared punting it down the hall. 

She smirked broadly as one of the kids ducked and another got a face full as she had. 

“Why you little” One of the kids came at her, pinning her to the locker. She kicked out on reflex and before she knew it a fight had broken out in the hallway. 

When a teacher finally showed up and pulled them apart. Abby was shocked that he first turned to the kid who had started it. 

“What happened?” the teacher asked them. 

“She attacked me-“ 

“I did not you liar!” Abby objected loudly. 

“You be quiet” The teacher ordered her. 

“But I didn’t-“ 

“Come on I’m taking you to the office now” the teacher ordered. He grabbed Abby’s arm and led her down the hallway. 

Not long after she was sitting outside the principal's office. She could hear everything going on inside. 

“She has a history of ditching” the teacher, Mr. Simons, was saying. “And now she’s picking fights.” 

“Abby skips because she isn’t learning anything in her classes if you put her in the advanced class-“ 

“That girl shouldn’t even be in regular classes,” Simons objected. “And don’t act like she’s some genius from the look of her I’d say she skips to go out drinking and do drugs-“ 

“Don’t you dare talk about my daughter like that!” Janice yelled. 

“Settle down both of you and Simons sit the hell down” the principal suddenly snapped. Then continued in a quieter but not any less tense tone “What exactly did Chris say happened?” 

“That she attacked him in the hallway” Simons stated “unprovoked” 

“Alright and what did Abby-“ 

“Why do you need any more convincing? It’s obvious what happened! What are you going to trust the word of some delinquent that can’t be bothered to show up to class or the straight A quarterback.” 

“My daughter is no liar!” Janice exclaimed. “She doesn’t go to class because she already knows everything that’s being taught cuz you refuse to put her in the advanced classes” 

“Do you really think a girl with elementary school education like Swiss cheese is actually going to make it in an advanced class?” Simons scoffed arrogantly. 

“She can remember everything that she’s ever read perfectly just ask her” Janice shot back. 

“Will you two stop!” The principal exclaimed and sighed. “I’m putting both students involved on temporary suspension” 

“What!” Simons exclaimed. The office descended into loud bouts of indiscernible yelling. Abby closed her eyes and tuned them and the world out the best she could. 

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_

“You alright?” Charlie asked hesitantly as him and Don left the Lorman group headquarters. 

“Yeah” Don murmured “It’s just all this stuff about predicting human potential I can’t help thinking about how it’d impact Abby you know?” he explained as the pair loaded into his SUV. “I mean she doesn’t really talk about it but I got enough from her social worker to know that her and Janice lived in some not great neighborhoods growing up.” 

“And this predictive model would have slighted against her despite her potential” Charlie inferred. 

“Exactly I mean she’s incredibly smart” Don explained “and I’ve been trying to go to bat with her regarding these advanced courses and stuff. Like, you were already in college at her age and she’s that same kind of smart. I just want her to have all the opportunities she deserves.” 

Charlie chuckled slightly “you know this side of you Abby brings out it- its kinda weird” 

“Yeah? Good weird or bad weird?” Don inquired. 

“Definitely good weird” Charlie assured. 

Don sighed “I guess I finally just understand what Mom and Dad meant when they said they wanted the world for us, you know. And that’s what I want for Abby” Don explained and Charlie smiled working very hard to keep his mouth shut about Abby’s letter from her teachers. 

_____________

Don glanced up at Abby as she ate her fries, her eyes scanning over the book she had laying on the table. They were eating dinner in their apartment now that he was back from the long case he’d just worked. The man took a deep breath deciding he had given her enough time “so I talked to Ms. Clive today and set up the time for the parent/teacher conference” 

Abby’s head snapped up so fast he was a little concerned “how did you? Did she tell you? Uh…” she fumbled over her words. 

Don scoffed setting down his burger “Abby, first off my job is to figure things out second off if you want a secret kept your uncle is the last person you should tell” Abby groaned putting her head in her hands and muttering a curse word or two towards Charlie. Don chuckled lightly “the only thing I don’t get is why you didn’t tell me. I mean, this is what you’ve been after forever I thought you would have jumped at it” 

“I was and I am… excited” Abby replied carefully biting her lip nervously which made Don shift in his seat. “It’s just… I know me going to college early is a big deal and it’s going to change things for me a- and for you and I didn’t want to make your life harder than I already had” 

Don was surprised by the confession and even more concerned as his daughter refused to make eye contact with him. He thought about what to say and only one thing came to mind “Abby I want the world for you” he told her. 

The girl looked up in surprise, her eyes meeting her father’s “what?”

“Listen I don’t care if this is going to change some things. Because I’m here for you” Don explained “Listen, I appreciate the concern but it’s the parents job to worry about the kid not the other way around or at least not until I’m old and gray” a small smile spread on Abby’s face. 

“Thanks Don” Abby told him. 

“Yeah, of course” Don nodded and he could tell Abby felt a lot better. Not just from this situation but it was like another wall had fallen down, chain had been released. And for him it was like another puzzle had been solved, another crisis averted. For both another step toward being family. 

Chapter 12 -> 

when you tryna chill but your siblings love annoyin you

The Derivative  Chapter 10: Influence

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 9 

I slammed the door as I came trudging in from the backyard. My grandfather looked up at me from where he was leaning on the counter. 

“In a mood are we?” he asked. 

“I’ve just been banished from the garage by Charlie and Larry,” I explained grumpily. “Apparently their working on something I can’t see but my book is in there somewhere” 

“Somewhere?” Alan questioned “don’t you remember where you put it?” 

“I remember where I put it but it has evidently been moved in the course of their work” I informed. 

Alan sighed and straightened up “well come on I’m sure I can negotiate for its rescue” 

I smiled slightly “thank you” 

He led the way out into the backyard and over to the garage. “Charlie you in there?” Alan called as we approached the door then he looked around the door frame “hey your niece needs her book that you two moved around in here” he explained. 

“Alright” Charlie sighed “she can look but I don’t want her messing with any of this” he gestured vaguely at the chalkboards and papers he had spread about. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it” I muttered looking around for my book. 

“What are you two geniuses into now?” Alan asked, looking at the work. “And what are my old city planning maps doing out like this? What’s happening?” 

“To me it looks like they’re working in probabilities based off the variables and labels. I'd say some kind of public location” I informed looking behind one of the chalkboards. 

“Abby what did I say?” Charlie snapped uncharacteristically. 

“Jeez I was just looking not messing” I stated in defense. 

Uncle C sighed looking exceptionally stressed “no one’s really supposed to know.” 

“Charles, perhaps it would be best to inform your father and the enigma of the impending Armageddon.” Larry objected. 

“Armageddon?” Alan questioned as Charlie muttered words of anger to his friend “No, don’t tell me you two spotted another one of those asteroids hurtling towards the Earth, huh?” 

Alan was joking but my stomach began to churn as I took a closer look at the math. All the locations were big public areas. Soft targets. 

“Several thousand, actually, but that Armageddon we have decades to resolve” Larry objected to my grandfather’s statement. 

“Charlie what is he talking about?” Alan questioned with a chuckle. 

Charlie was about to brush his father off when he was cut off by the high pitched exclamation of his best friend “a truck carrying nuclear waste was hijacked. Yesterday.” 

“What?” Alan questioned. 

That was when all the pieces clicked in my mind “wait so the locations you’re narrowing down their possible targets aren’t they?” I asked in shock. “My God” 

“Now wait a minute” Gramps spoke up “why didn’t I hear anything about this on the news?” 

“Because they’re not telling anyone” Charlie muttered with a pointed glare at Larry. 

“What do you mean they’re not telling anyone?” Alan asked with slightly irritation edging his words. “How the hell are people supposed to protect themselves? And what does she mean about targets?” 

“In the first place, uh, we- we’re not even sure that there, that there is a bomb, so-” 

“A bomb?!” Alan cut his son off. 

“Well, we don’t know where it’s going to go off.” Charlie advised. 

“Well, maybe not. But I would suggest that, uh, people quickly taking a ride out of town in an easterly direction might be of help right now.” Alan stated. 

“Well, possibly not, with these current wind conditions.” Larry mused. 

“Look, an evacuation without information will lead to mass public panic.” Charlie pointed out. 

“Well, speaking for the huddled masses, I’d rather not have some government official making that decision for me right now, thank you very much” Alan declared, picking up one of his maps off the table which revealed my book underneath. “And what are you doing with my maps?” 

“You really are something, you know that?” Charlie snapped at Larry. The two began to bicker as I stepped forward to grab my book. Then Larry finally got a word in edgewise with a sharp point. 

“He is a planner and she a budding mathematician” 

Charlie turned to his dad who was looking at the maps and realization seemed to dawn on him. “You know what, Dad?” he called “you can help us.” 

“How can I help you?” Alan questioned. “Charlie, I’m not a physicist and I’m certainly not an expert on nuclear contamination.” 

“But you were a city planner” Uncle C pointed out walking over to the man “you know about urban density, and these are your maps.”

“And another person to run equations would be quite helpful,” Larry added, looking to me. I picked up my book with a sigh. 

“I wanted to help. Now I wish I didn’t need to” I muttered Larry just nodded in understanding. 

We continued to look over the maps and crunch numbers Charlie and Larry guiding me through some of the more complex calculations. Then Charlie's phone rang. “Hey Don” we all turned to him surprised. “Well don’t we have-” a glance at his watch “-six hours… they pushed it-” he turned to those of us in the room “Ah, he needs to know now.” I looked to the boards raising my hands to my head in complete panic. There was no way to be sure, multiple possibilities. 

“Well, we still have algorithms to test and variables to explore here” Larry objected. 

“Okay, um… okay, we’ve pinpointed seven likely targets” Charlie spoke into the phone “there’s one in Westwood, there’s two in Century City.” Charlie paused as I presume Don spoke to him on the phone “Downtown. Okay. He needs downtown so,” we all eyed the map pointing out the two possible targets. “Okay, there’s, there’s, there’s two. One in Driscoll Plaza and another in Angeles Square.” Charlie looked at us after seconds of tension “he needs one just one, one of them” Charlie murmured. 

“Statistically, they’re both of nearly equal probability,” Larry explained. 

“Math can’t tell us which one” I breathed out. 

“Right. Mathematically, we have no justification for choosing one over the other” Charlie explained just as Alan reached over and grabbed the phone away from his son. 

“Donnie, go with Angeles Square.” The man declared into the phone “I know what Charlie says, but I know these maps, and I would choose Angeles Square. It’s the height of the buildings. It creates what we used to call an urban canyon. The air currents through the buildings spread the radiation much further. If I wanted to inflict as much damage as I could, that’s where I would go. Angeles Square. I’m telling you.” Alan pulled the phone from his ear. 

“Great now we just sit and hope” I muttered leaning on the table. Releasing the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. 

_______

“Well we didn’t do so bad today, did we?” Alan asked, coming over to the table a bit more chipper than any of us. 

“No, today, was good.” Larry voiced. “But what about tomorrow?” 

“Yeah and Don was still very close to a bomb that could have had nuclear material so” I shrugged picking at the frayed end of the ripped knee of my pants as they were pulled up to my chest. 

“Yeah, uh, you know I think I understand why you like helping Don so much.” Alan said “it’s not a bad feeling” he paused. Me, Gramps, Larry exchanged looks as the curly haired young mathematician in the room stayed uncharacteristically quiet. “What’s the matter, Charlie? You’ve got that look that you get when you can’t stop worrying about something” 

“He’s right. You seem a little perturbed” Larry agreed. 

“You’re still not mad about my pulling that phone out of your hand, are you?” Alan questioned. 

“I was going to say Driscoll Plaza,” Charlie admitted. “Before you grabbed the phone out of my hand I was- I was about to say Driscoll Plaza, and I would’ve been wrong.” 

“Oh” Alan murmured around the bite of food in his mouth “well, come on, Charlie. I was the one that didn’t give you the right variables. You know, the heights of the buildings.” Alan reassured. “Listen, if you’ve got one failing, it’s only that you don’t think like a criminal. Of course, what does that say about me?” he chuckled slightly 

“That you’re a great influence” I replied sarcastically. 

“I would’ve been wrong,” Charlie murmured again. 

__________

3rd POV. 

Don pulled up outside his brother’s house and hopped out of his car. His pace only slowed slightly when he saw Abby sitting on the porch reading. She looked up at him. 

“Did you catch ‘em?” she asked. 

“Got the guys not the cesium” he replied grabbing the door knob then paused. “Wait how did you..?” she bit her lip and glanced toward inside “ah damn it Charlie” 

“It wasn’t his fault. Blame Larry’s fear and my nosiness if anything” she objected. 

“So if Dad was helping I’m guessing you were as well then?” Don inquired and she nodded. He growled “Abby you can’t do that and if I wasn’t in a hurry you’d be getting an earful right now alright.” he flung the door open and headed inside Abby hurrying behind him. 

He stalked over to where Charlie and Larry were seated at the table “alright we have the guys but they aren’t telling us where the caesium is we think it’s still on the truck and in our perimeter but we have no idea where they stashed it.” He quickly briefed them on the situation. 

“Larry and I have been doing some research on tracking radiation signatures.” Charlie replied as Abby took a seat at the table “now between the sense that scan from planes and those you could install at random points in the area, we would be able to triangulate a location for that radioactive material.” 

“All right, well, that’s great” Don felt some of the anxious energy he had been feeling coming in here ease away. “How long would it take?” it started coming back as the three geniuses in the room all shifted in their seats. 

“Like a.. Like a week.” Charlie replied “or maybe two.” 

“A week? Charlie, the truck is leaking radiation, you understand?” Don said insistently. 

“He’s right, Charles.” Larry spoke up “I mean, these casks were not designed to contain cesium for extended periods of time. This material in particular has an insidious method of attack.” 

“Which is?” Don prompted sitting down next to his daughter. 

“Look, even in small amounts, whether ingested or inhaled,” Larry began to explain they spread throughout the entire body, they invade and destroy the soft tissue. Longer exposure and we’re talking acute radiation poisoning; the Walking Ghost phase.” 

“That sounds bad,” Abby muttered almost to herself. 

“The Walking Ghost phase?” Don questioned that tension within him building again. 

“Yes, like the people in Chernobyl. Somebody starts feeling nauseous, they vomit, they start feeling better, they think they are better. But no, it’s- it’s just a grace period. A week later, it’s internal bleeding and certain death.” 

Charlie let off a breath leaning back in his chair and Abby brought her knees up to her chest in her seat. “You said you have the guys that stole the truck, right?” Charlie asked, getting to his feet. 

“That’s right,” Don agreed. 

“They don’t know where it is?” the mathematician questioned. 

“Well, Charlie, they’re not talking.” Don explained. 

“None of them?” 

“No. they’re trying to use the truck as leverage if anything,” Don told them. 

“They had a plan going in.” Charlie determined. 

“We got ‘em separated. We’re trying to play them against each other, but” Don sighed dread creeping into his gut. 

“What about putting them together?” Charlie suggested. 

“No, Charlie.” Don objected “you keep suspects isolated in the dark. That’s how it works” 

“I understand that.” Charlie clarified “that, that’s not what I’m speaking about. I’m actually talking about something completely different. I’m talking about something called The Prisoner’s Dilemma” 

Abby straightened behind Don and Larry nodded “game theory” 

“Game theory” Charlie parroted his friend and continued “the mathematics of decision making. How to achieve the optimal outcome from a complex situation. So for instance, um” the man thought up an analogy “say two people were to commit crime. Now, if neither of them talk they each get a year. If one of them talks, he gets no time at all, and the other guy gets five years. If both of them talk, they each get two years. So you see, unless they can trust each other not to say anything talking is the best strategy” 

“Yeah, but I already told you they’re not talking” Don pointed out. 

“Well, maybe that’s because none of them realize how much the others have to lose.” Charlie advised. 

“Risk assessment” Abby muttered.

Charlie smirked slightly at his niece's insight “precisely.” 

_________

“I mean it was pretty impressive” Don voiced as he and his family left the restaurant. “These are three hardcore dudes, and Charlie’s up there scibbling all these crazy equations” 

“Crazy equa..? You hear that, Dad?” Charlie muttered as Abby started to giggle “Crazy equations. Now, I did a risk assessment analysis based on a model used to determine a bank’s exposure to mutual credit obligations. That’s what I did.” 

“Yeah, it’s a compliment. I mean, the point is, is that they bought it.” Don explained. 

“Don’s right. I mean the important thing is you’re getting the truck back. Isn’t that enough?” Alan pointed out. 

“Yeah, I mean, you know, you can get an award for a performance like that” Don congratulated. 

“A per..? It wasn’t a performance” Charlie objected. “It wasn’t a scam. That was math. That was actual math. I don’t make this stuff up.” 

“Want to hear about math?” Alan chimed in reaching into his jacket pocket “here, here’s math. Dinner was $102 divided four ways is 25 bucks apiece. Pay up.” 

“Wait I’m a minor dependant I don’t have money he does” Abby objected pointing at her father who pulled out his wallet. 

“Actually I gotta hit an ATM. I don’t have any cash” Don replied. 

“Now that’s a scam” Alan complained and the men descended into bickering as Abby laughed. 

“Hey keep laughing and I will make you pay your share” Don threatened. “Especially since I’m considering grounding you” 

“What?” Abby questioned her laughter quickly fading. 

“I told you I didn’t want you helping on cases math or not and you didn’t listen” Don replied firmly even though the expression on Abby’s face was beginning to weaken his resolve. 

“But I was helpful I didn’t get hurt there was no way for me to get hurt” Abby defended “what’s so wrong with crunching a few numbers in the garage every now and then” 

Don sighed biting his lip “because your sixteen and I don’t want you getting dragged head first into my world of guns and destruction” 

Abby looked to the ground and opened her mouth. Don got the feeling she was about to say something poignant but she hesitated and instead closed her mouth looking back up at her father with a determination that caught him rather off guard. 

“Fine I’ll stop whining about working on big stuff for now but once I’m eighteen I’m getting my clearance and you can’t stop me” she declared. 

Alan and Charlie both smiled slightly at the girl's stubborn statement. Don sighed knowing there was no way he was changing her mind. So instead he hooked her around the shoulders pulling her into his side as the family continued down the sidewalk “alright kid but right now you’re still grounded.” 

Chapter 11 ->

Transgender Day of Visibility.

Can I just… talk for a moment… about how much I love how, if you know them well, words don’t have synonyms?

English, for example, is a fantastic disaster. It has so many words for things that are basically the same, and I find there’s few joys in writing like finding the right word for a sentence. Hunting down that peculiar word with particular meaning that fits in seamlessly in a structure, so the story flows on by without any bumps or leaks.

Like how a shout is typically about volume, while a yell carries an angry edge and a holler carries a mocking one. A scream has shrillness, a roar has ferocity, and a screech has outrage. 

This is not to say that a yell cannot be happy or a holler cannot be complimentary, or that they cannot share these traits, but they are different words with different connotations. I love choosing the right one for a sentence, not only for its meanings but for how it sounds when read aloud. (Do I want sounds that slide together, peaceful and seamless, or something that jolts the reader with its contrast? Snap!)

I love how many words for human habitats there are. I love how cottage sounds quaint and cabin sounds rustic. I love steadiness of house, the elegance of residence, the stateliness of manor, and tired stubbornness of shack. I love how a dwelling is different to a den.

And I love how none of them can really touch the possessive warmness of all the connotations of home.

Words are great.

To everyone with sensory issues:

You are not a baby for melting down because of under/overstimulation. You are not being immature or “just throwing a tantrum” when you have meltdowns. The discomfort and pain and fear you feel due to your sensory issues is real and valid, and shouldn’t be dismissed as silly or unimportant by people who don’t understand it.

The Derivative  Chapter 9: Wormholes

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 8 

“Apparently there’s large performance differentials between same caliber bullets from different manufacturers” Amita told Charlie walking over to him with a piece of paper with the information. 

“Based on what?” Uncle C questioned looking the paper over. 

“Lead composition, gunpowder packing” Amita shrugged, sitting back down in her seat. 

“Just what I need more variables” Charlie muttered. 

“I could help you run through the equations if you want” I offered leaning forward on the couch. 

“No you’re not helping” Charlie objected turning back to his chalkboard “if Don even found out you were in here we’d both be in trouble” 

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my book. Just then there was a knock at the door to the solarium and Larry meandered in. “oh, some assistance in my brazen attack on the Lorenz invariance?” 

“No, drag coefficient models” Charlie informed. 

“Drag co- drag on what?” Larry questioned. Walking from Charlie to Amita.

“Bullets” the woman answered. 

“Bullets as in ballistic trajectories defined by the Einstein Equivalence Principle, related to the Lorenz frame?” Larry questioned over her shoulder pointedly. 

“As in, bullets that kill people” Amita replied. 

“Oh” Larry muttered with slight disgust in his voice as he turned to join me sitting on the couch. 

“There seems to be some disagreements over the sniper’s expertise” Amita explained looking to Charlie. 

“Well, I’d say the public’s decided on the question.” Larry explained “I have an aunt who lives two blocks from the first shooting. She’s afraid to go out on her front lawn now.” he gestured out the window. 

“Why don’t you tell your aunt that statistically she has a better chance of being mauled by a bear” Charlie explained exasperatedly. 

“Actually, statistics would favor the bear being mauled by my aunt but…” Larry joked and we all shared a small laugh. “This fear, this extends beyond the reach of statistics Charles.” Larry explained sinking into the couch. “No this is about arbitrary inescapable death. No, times like these, you just wind up speculating on paths not taken, jobs left undone.” 

“Larry I- I’m trying to get those equations done for you as soon as I can,” Charlie defended. 

“No, no, no.” Larry objected sitting up “at that moment, I was actually thinking of a far more prosaic legacy. Someone to carry on the Fleinhardt standard” 

We all looked at the physicist in surprise. “I didn’t know you wanted kids, Larry” Charlie voiced. 

“Well children are wormholes” Larry declared. 

“Wormholes?” Amita questioned. 

“As the only minor in the room can I protest that classification?” I asked the man who sat next to me fiddling with a small bowl “or at least get an explanation?” 

“Yeah. They’re portals into the unreachable future and unattainable past.” he somewhat clarified “No, as things stand now they exist only in the theoretical realm so..” 

“Well, I can see where you might have some trouble selling a woman on the idea of carrying you wormhole” Amita stated and we all chuckled again. 

____________

There’s isn’t anything quite as annoying as sitting at the kitchen table trying to get a look at the work your Uncle is doing for the FBI that you know you can help with but aren’t allowed to. This is where I was as I sat at the dining table Charlie working and Larry getting himself another cup of coffee. 

“You know,” the physicist spoke up from the kitchen, “I have had almost no attendance at my morning classes. It’s like everyone’s afraid to set foot outside” 

“Not everybody” Charlie objected as Larry came in and sat a cup of water down for the mathematician. 

“Just the general populous” I commented. 

“Yeah. In times like these, an empty house is not a home” Larry said taking a seat at the table. “Evaluating my immediate prospects for a conventional nuclear family, I’ve just now begun to consider adoption.” 

“How long have you been considering it?” Charlie inquired. 

“Three days,” Larry offered. 

“Give it a few more days.” Charlie advised. 

“Yeah” Larry agreed “but consider Don. He had no prior notion or plan for raising a young adult and yet here he is doing just fine.” 

“That would convey the notion that my father is doing more than just monitoring me and providing me sustenance” I muttered. 

“I suppose there is something to be said about a mentoring learning curve” Larry murmured. Then looked at Charlie’s work “so what? You found a pattern yet?” 

“More like a pattern of patternlessness.” Charlie informed. 

“Is patternlessness even a word?” I asked. 

“Well it is now” Charlie stated. 

“Hey, there’s an interesting metaphysical notion.” Larry voiced. 

“What, whether patternlessness is a word?” I asked. 

“No the interesting part it plays in this case.” Larry explained “perhaps a human element remains to be inserted” 

Charlie groaned in annoyance. “You sound like this, uh, Agent Edgerton guy. He’s a sniper instructor that Don brought in from Quantico he thinks I should be out shooting rifles.” 

“Well, why aren’t you?” Larry inquired. 

“That would be cool” I agreed. 

“It’s a poor allocation of my time” Charlie objected “in the time it takes to shoot X number of rifles, I can access ten or twenty or a hundred times that amount of data” 

“No, no, no, no. there’s data and there’s hands-on experience” Larry pointed out. “These are two different beasts. That’s why you’ve got blackboards and laboratories.” 

“Well you study the universe, and you’ve never been to outer space.” Charlie countered. 

“Yeah, but if I had the opportunity, do you think for a moment I’d hesitate?” Larry said. 

Charlie sighed. “I think it’d be cool to shoot a rifle,” I voiced. 

Charlie gave me a look “you know It’s those kinds of statements that make Don worried about you” 

___________

“Why’d I have to come along?” I muttered. 

“Because if you hung around Larry and Charlie any longer you’d end up helping them on this crazy case and we both know it” Alan stated as we got on the elevator in the FBI office. 

“So your solution is to bring me to the heart of where the case is being handled.” I pointed out. 

“Point made but this is the side of it you definitely can’t help on” Alan commented. I nodded in agreement getting the point. 

The elevator opened and Don greeted us. “Hey guys” he smiled. 

“Hey Donnie” Alan smiled as we headed out of the elevator and into the FBI office. I’d never been here before and it was a cool place. People were all over the place in cubicles. There were meeting rooms with glass walls and doors and on one side a tall stack of file boxes. 

“Thanks for bringing lunch all the way down here.” Don told us as he led us through the office “Come on, this way.” 

“Oh well, you know, the drive was a pleasure.” Gramps explained. “Traffic on the 10 has never been thinner since, uh, well, since it’s been the 10” 

“Yeah, it’s like all LA’s in lockdown, huh? Little eerie” Don commented. “Right in here” we were ushered into a little break room. Alan sat the bag of food on the table and started setting things out. “You guys want a water?” Don asked, leaning by a mini fridge. 

“Yes please” Alan said politely. 

“Sure” I shrugged watching the people through the glass. 

Don set out three waters before taking his seat at the table. Alan got up to grab some napkins. “Hey kid, why don’t you sit down?” Don suggested. 

“Yeah” I agreed, coming over and sitting across from him where Alan had put my sandwich. “Everyone’s really busy out there huh?” 

“Yeah sniper’s a big case and it’s not the only one we have open right now so a lot going on” Don explained as Alan came back over. 

“So, how, uh, how are you and Charlie managing this case?” the elderly man asked. 

“Well, I mean, he’s frustrated; I’m frustrated.” Don shook his head raising his sandwich up to his face “I mean, we’re having a rough time on this” 

“Is that why he’s been running out of the house late at night?” Alan inquired as we ate. 

Don nodded “we got an agent on him all the time” he assured. 

“I mean, I know he’s been helping you out and that he comes down to your office a lot, and I- I think that’s great. But, but now you got him going out on crime scenes.” Alan explained “I mean, there's this guy shooting people out there.”

Don made a face and I could see the argument coming. I quickly spoke up to leave the room “uh where’s the bathroom here?” 

Don look to me “uh out down the hall to the left and then take a right” he gestured. 

“Thanks” I replied, getting up and shuffling out of the room. Glancing back I could see the conversation continuing in my absence. Don and Alan had a strong relationship this I could tell from the beginning. However, Alan was always worried about his sons especially on the FBI side of things. It was a worry I never fully understood but then again this was my first time with male role models so maybe it was just a guy thing to constantly worry about what you can’t control. 

___________________

3rd POV. 

Once Abby had left the room Don turned back to his father “Dad. you really think I would put Charlie in danger?” 

“No,” Alan objected “you know what I really think?” 

“What?” 

“I think you have to understand that Charlie can never say no to you,” Alan explained. Don let out an exasperated breath putting down his sandwich “I mean, I mean. All you have to do is to ask him something and he’s there for you.” 

“Yeah, and I’m there for him.” Don insisted. 

Alan sighed “look, he’s not a cop. Now, come on, I mean, he’s better off with chalk in his hand than a gun.” 

“You know, you got to stop this; he is a grown man, and he’s capable of-” 

“Who still seeks the approval of his older brother” Alan cut Don off. “Whether his older brother likes it or not. And- and more than that Abby, Abby is just like him I had to bring her out here with me just to keep her from trying to help anymore on this sniper math of his.” 

“Abby’s fine alright” Don objected “she just needs to learn to leave that stuff alone” 

“Yeah, and who’s job is it to teach her?” Alan pointed out. 

Don sighed and was about to reply when his phone went off he pulled it out to answer, muttering an excuse me. Meanwhile Abby returned hesitantly but determined the argument was over as she saw her father on the phone. 

“Gotta go” the agent declared gathering his food and getting to his feet “another shooting” 

“Oh my god” Alan muttered. 

“Yeah, I promise I won’t call Charlie till we roll the tanks out.” Don stated stopping in the doorway. “And I want you two to stay here until I call you, okay?” Alan nodded in understanding “all right, thanks for the sandwich” 

With that Don was heading off into the bullpen. “I barely got to say two words to him” Abby muttered, sitting down with her food. 

“Well, I suppose when duty calls” Alan sighed, turning and watching his granddaughter eat. 

__________________

Abby POV.

I left off a loud sigh as Larry and my grandfather began their chess game. “Come on Abby, you like chess,” Alan said. 

“I like playing chess, not watching it,” I replied, turning the page of my book. 

“Well how about you play winner” Gramps suggested and I shrugged in reply. “And would you mind sitting like a normal person we are in public” I raised my hands in an annoyed gesture as I sat sideways in my chair, my legs dangling over the arms rest of one side. Alan gave me a stern look and I sighed shifting in my seat. “Thank you”

“Yeah, yeah” I sighed slouching in my chair and turning another page of my book. 

“Oh. The Ruy Lopez opening” Alan commented on Larry’s move. “I see I’m dealing with a classicist here.” 

“Look, I warned you I was a little rusty” Larry pointed out with a slight laugh to his voice. “My game is also a little undeveloped.” 

“You know I had to stop playing with Charlie when he was eight years old.” Alan explained. 

“Yeah, more precociousness in the biography of professor Charles Eppes.” Larry sighed “yeah you know, among mathematicians, isn’t that just such a cliche, the playing chess?” 

“I didn’t mind losing” Alan explained leaning forward in his seat “it was that bored expression on his face, like he was playing out of courtesy. That’s what got to me” 

“That’s why I keep my poker face up when I challenge you” I muttered, not looking up from my book. “It’s just common courtesy” 

“Oh is that so?” Alan asked and I could hear the amusement in his tone as I smirked. “Perhaps you should remember who your ride home is then” we both chuckled lightly amused. 

“Oh yeah? Well, try Scrabble” Larry suggested ignoring my and my grandfather’s banter. “He’s a horrible speller” 

“Really?” Alan inquired. 

“Oh, he’s horrible,” Larry insisted. 

“I didn’t know that” Gramps sighed leaning back in his chair again. “You know quite a bit about my son.” 

“I don’t know” Larry murmured “I know he’s been a delight. You know, observing him all these years. You know, a star pupil’s ascension to such extraordinary heights I mean, yeah, that’s perhaps the most rewarding aspect of being a teacher.” 

“Come one, we both know you’ve been a lot more than just a teacher to Charlie” Alan pointed out. 

I glanced up to see a small smile grace Larry’s features “well, thank you for saying that.” 

I caught sight of the board and scoffed turning back to my book as Alan spoke again moving one of his bishop “oh, by the way, uh you’re now in check” 

“Oh you distracted me” Larry exclaimed, sitting up as Alan chuckled to himself. 

“Smooth Larry” I murmured. 

___________

“Here I found a tarp” I called tossing the bundled fabric at my uncle. 

“I just didn’t think that I was in immediate danger until I was” Uncle Charlie continued to explain the story I had coaxed out of him when he came back minorly distressed from the scene where the serial sniper was stopped. 

“Well yeah no one expects to die when their life has never been threatened before. Unless they’re paranoid” I muttered. 

“You seem far more calm with this then I would think” Charlie muttered as I climbed down the step ladder and we went to go outside. 

“Well I have experience around guns” I mumbled as we stepped back into the yard and was grateful to see my father there to draw away Charlie’s attention. 

“You told him?” Charlie asked. 

“Yeah about the gun range” Don muttered with a pointed look “that you shot a rifle. He shot a rifle, did a great job” Don rambled slightly. 

“I fired the rifle,” Charlie parroted. 

“Yeah, see i’m perfectly fine” Alan pointed out, wiping his hands with a rag “I didn’t fall off the ladder, I didn’t collapse. I certainly hope you got that out of your system now.” he muttered the last line at his youngest. 

“Definitely” Charlie agreed. 

I scoffed slightly and struggled to suppress my laughter at knowing the full knowledge of what happened as Gramps went to talk to Don about the stain they were putting on the house. Uncle C gave me a slight shove at my poorly suppressed amusement and I bent to help him spread the tarps. 

Chapter 10 ->

While finally watching the entire supernatural series that I never actually finished and writing a Numb3rs fanfic at the same. Certain things have begun to happen. 

Such as me realizing commonalities, say/typing Dean when I mean Don and vise versa, also imagining Don speaking with Dean’s voice though not the other way around. I don’t know if this is just my brain acting weird but these shows are oddly similar. Like you can’t tell me people haven’t noticed this before. 

hanging out with other ADHD people is such a balm. i can interrupt them midsentence and go “look at that nice duck!!” and they’ll immediately turn around and go “oh my god that is a GOOD duck” instead of just snapping at me to pay attention

Nothing beats the feeling when you start getting comments on every fic in a fandom or ship from one person, and it’s clear that they’re going on a fic-binge. 

The Derivative  Chapter 8: Sports

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 7

“Do I even need to ask?” David snapped. Uncle Charlie just smiled smugly turning his hand around. The entire table groaned in annoyance. 

“It’s not what it looks like, promise” Don spoke up. 

“You brother hustling us?” one of Don’s friends Mike muttered. 

“I’ve only played once before” Charlie informed as they collected the cards to deal another round of poker. “I actually have a one in eight chance of hitting a set when I’m holding a pocket pair. I’m about 50/50 to draw a flush with suited cards in my hand, two off the draw. I also count my outs I- I multiply by two. I add one. That’s roughly my percentage of hitting.” he explained. 

“Card math” I muttered over my father’s shoulder as I walked past the table. Leaning over to snag some chips out of the snack bowl. 

“Mr. Eppes you need to take my seat, your son is killing us” David declared as Alan brought out more chips. 

“No, not me” Gramps objected “the only other time Charlie played, I learned my lesson about gambling with a mathematician” 

“Hey could I-” 

“No” Don cut me off “Ms. I-can’t-help-but-card-count” 

“Not my fault I was born with perfect visual memory” I muttered as my father got up and headed to the kitchen. 

“Hey weren’t we playing with bottle caps?” Charlie pointed out to his father.

“Yeah or else you’d have walked away with the pink slip to my car” Alan informed. 

“You know, there is some element of chance here” Charlie explained “you know I- I may just be getting lucky.” 

“Or you're just unlucky,” David joked to Mike. 

“That’s funny Sinclair keep that up. It comes back to me when baseball starts” Mike countered taking a swig of his beer as dad returned and handed me a Mountain Dew as he sat down with his glass of water. 

“Baseball?” Charlie questioned “”the FBI have a team?” 

“Yeah, we got a whole league.” David explained “there’s, uh, LAPD, Sheriffs’ department” 

“D.A.’s got the killer squad” Mike commented “Now that Kraft’s in San Diego, you guys don’t have a power hitter.” 

“What about Don?” Charlie suggested. 

“It’s not my thing” Don objected 

“Oh, you play?” Mike inquired. 

“Don went to college on a baseball scholarship,” Charlie informed. “What are you talking about? You played pro second base.” 

“Single A about a million years ago” Don muttered. 

“That’s great. It means you’re this year’s ringer.” Mike grumbled. 

“Nope. I’m sorry.” Don objected quickly “not interest buddy” 

“Come on, you gotta do it” David asked hopefully as Don’s phone rang. 

“Excuse me” he murmured to us answering it. “Eppes… we’ll be right there” he declared, getting to his feet. 

I sighed and shuffled back toward the kitchen where Alan was. “Looks like I’m spending the night,” I informed. 

He looked up at me confused “really? Why?” 

Just then Don popped into the doorway pulling on a jacket “hey dad I just got called in can she stay here tonight?” 

I gave my grandfather a look who sighed “yes of course” 

“Thanks,” Don murmured heading out. 

______________

3rd POV. 

“I’ve never seen him before,” Mr. Bayle declared, handing Don back the photo of Salazar. 

“Are you sure?” the agent asked. 

“Yeah” the man confirmed. 

“I mean, maybe he did some work for you guys around here.” Don persisted. 

“Yeah, he could have. I wouldn’t know” Bayle explained “Lisa was in charge of all that.” 

“I’m just trying to figure out if there’s any possibility that this man knew your wife.” Don insisted as they stepped from the other man’s kitchen into his living room. 

“Why?” Bayle inquired with a shrug as he stopped to face Don. 

“You’re not going to want to hear this” Don prefaced reluctantly “but there are some questions about Cliff Howard’s conviction” 

“The bastard said he did it,” Bayle scoffed. 

“I know,” Don nodded. 

“I haven’t seen you in a year” Bayle continued “I haven’t seen you since you interrogated me for 48 hours.” 

“Sir..” Don tried to speak up but the other man continued. 

“I had to call the funeral home handcuffed to a table.” 

“I was pursuing your wife’s murder wherever it took me” Don attempted to explain his actions. “So help me..” he paused shaking his head and biting his lip and Bayle took the moment to speak again.

“Now you want to tear these wounds open again.” 

“I don’t want to do that,” Don objected adamantly. 

Both men paused to breathe and Don’s eyes wandered over to the mantel where he spotted a picture he recognized he shuffled over to point at it “that’s your, uh, your daughter. What’s her name? Paula?” he asked, trying to remember. 

“Yes” Jonas answered, his voice still tense with emotion. 

“Right. May I?” Don gestured to the photo. 

“Go ahead,” Bayle allowed. Don took the photo from the mantel and looked at the young girl. “She’s a sophomore now.” 

“Yeah, so is my daughter,” Don admitted. 

“You have a daughter?” Jonas asked, surprised. 

Don nodded “her names Abby.” he chuckled slightly with a bittersweet spike in his gut “yeah she came to live with me not too long ago after her mother died, car crash” 

“I’m sorry” Bayle murmured, shifting on his feet. 

Don replaced the photo and turned to face the other man. “Jonas, don’t you want to know the truth about your wife’s death?” 

“Cliff Howard is the truth,” Bayle insisted. 

______________

Abby POV. 

“Okay tell me I’m crazy” Larry declared, setting his pencil down and rubbing his face with his hands. “I think I’ve just found a way to express Calabi-Yau manifolds in a way that goes beyond the existence of a nonvanishing harmonic spinor.” 

“You're crazy,” I muttered, taking another bite of my food. 

“Ch- Charles” Larry whined when he received no response from his fellow mathematician. 

“Has he been out there all night?” Uncle C questioned turning away from the window he had been gazing out of. Watching my father play basketball. 

“Well, on the bright side it seems like Don’s taken up an interest in sports again.” Alan commented. 

Charlie sighed taking the seat next to me “it’s like the evidence proves him right and wrong at the same time” 

“Oh, yeah, the old paradox of Schroedinger’s cat.” Larry murmured. 

“Is that that persian that keeps hiding out in our garage?” Alan inquired. 

“No, that's the Myers down the street’s cat” I muttered, taking a sip of my drink. 

“It’s an intellectual exercise,” Charlie explained. 

“I knew that,” Alan lied. 

“Okay this is vastly simplified” Larry prompted “there’s a cat in a box. 50/50 chance it’s been poisoned, but now here’s the paradox: until such time as we can open the box and observe the cat, for that time, that cat is both alive and dead.” 

“Larry I-I fail to see the analogy, though.” Charlie objected “I mean, in reality Don can’t be both right and wrong at the same time.” 

“Well, of course not.” Alan chimed in “I mean, if a man is both right and wrong, then something’s gotta be wrong.” 

“Positive and a negative equal a negative?” I scoffed. 

“No. the truth of Schroedinger’s cat is that the question itself is meaningless until we look inside the box.” Larry informed. 

“So you could ask a whole different question” I voiced. 

“For a whole different result” Larry finished. Uncle Charlie immediately straightened and turned to look at the window again. Before getting up and heading outside after his brother. “Well and off he goes again to help solve the unjust of the world” 

“You can always tell when he gets an idea he spaces out then runs” I muttered. 

Larry hummed in agreement “you know you are quite insightful young enigma quite like your uncle I’m surprised you’ve yet to push ahead of your peers in academia like he so did” 

“Oh here we go” Alan muttered. 

“Well I’ve tried they won’t put me in advanced classes because I wasn’t in school consistently as a kid.” I explained. 

“Well that’s absurd a brilliant mind shouldn’t be held back by the amount of desks they haven’t sat at or lectures they’ve witnessed” Larry voiced in annoyance. 

“Preaching to the choir,” I told him. 

“Yes but do me a favor and don’t get on the soap box of yours again” Gramps asked me. 

I nodded in agreement and picked at the last bits of food on my plate. “You know what?” Larry spoke up causing me and Alan to look at him but his eyes were trained on me “you should attend CalSci once you’ve escaped high school. We have no such requirements if you show the aptitude” 

“I don’t know I’m still looking at quite a bit of time being forced to look at this stuff in school let alone do I want to keep having to do school work beyond it.” I pointed out. 

“No no no” Larry objected waving his hands “it’s not like that at CalSci you can learn what you want and gain knowledge and work to gather more knowledge of the universe itself with a very hands on approach” 

I sighed finishing off my dinner and gathered my dishes. “I’ll think about it” 

“Very well” Larry accepted the answer as I stood up. 

“You done?” Alan asked. 

“Yeah” I murmured, taking my dishes into the kitchen. I glanced out the window and spotted my Uncle joining my father in his basketball playing. I loved basketball. The one sport I was decent at. As I watched my mind different back to just shortly before I went to live with my father here. 

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

3rd POV. 

“Yo Calvin” Abby looked up from where she was sitting with her back to a wall in the courtyard book in hand. A girl named Naomi was looking at her from the basketball court with the ball tucked under her arm. Other girls around her were glancing in Abby’s direction and muttering to each other. “We need a even number get over here” 

Abby hesitated. Veronica was standing on the court eyeing her with the same hate in her eyes. However after one of her accomplices came over and whispered in her ear she nodded her agreement with the situation.  

Abby sighed and closed her book getting up and heading to the court. “‘ight y’all line up me and V will choose the teams,” Naomi declared. 

Abby stood in line with the seven other girls they had goated into playing with them. Veronica stuck to choosing her pals and Naomi was smart enough not to choose them but Veronica only had three friends and Abby ended up being the last one on the line as Naomi chose the girl next to her. 

“Calvin and V on the same team” one of the girls on Naomi’s team voiced “this’ll be interesting.” 

Abby scoffed and took her position on the court. “Hey bookworm don’t get in the way” Veronica snapped. 

“Then stay out of mine” Abby shrugged. Veronica shot her a glare as the other girls jeered. 

“Hey let’s play” Naomi called everyone’s attention. 

The game started out easy. Naomi had the ball and was heading down the court. Abby intercepted her snagging the ball easily and heading down the court when she was slammed in the side hitting the ground. Veronica had the ball now and shot it into the hoop. 

“Hey!” Abby yelled getting back to her feet “thought we were on the same team” 

“Thought I said stay out of my way” Veronica retaliated coming up to get Abby’s face. 

“Hey knock it off” Naomi pushed between the girls “either play or leave and sort your shit out the way you normally do and land in the infirmary” 

“You telling me what to do, china?” Veronica snarled at Naomi. 

Naomi shifted back a bit “I’m actually Korean not that it matters but what I’m trying to do is play some basketball. Now you two can go duke it out if you want at least it’ll keep the teams even” 

Veronica scoffed “whatever” she stalked back onto the court. 

Abby sighed and followed the game started up again and Abby barely touched the ball as it was passed from player to player. Until it got to a point where they had five minutes left of courtyard time and Naomi’s team was up by one. 

“We need to score. You beat Naomi at ball, that's a serious brag even with dead weights like Harp and Richards on her team” Veronica’s lacky Fiona stated. 

“Yeah well we aren’t going to if Veronica tries to score again” Abby muttered to the rest of the huddle. 

“You saying I can’t shoot Calvin?” Veronica turned to her angry. 

“No I’m saying our entire strategy has been geared to give you glory this entire time and they’ve figured that out” Abby explained “that’s why they’ve blocked our last five attempts.” 

“What? You want us to pass it to you?” Veronica asked “that ain’t how that works Calvin” 

“I don’t care who you pass it to” Abby shrugged “you just gotta pass it” 

Veronica thought about it a moment “Alright Fi you take it” she declared. “Let’s go” 

“Okay” Fiona muttered, sounding unsure. 

The game started and Naomi’s team got the ball dribbling down the court. Veronica intercepted as Abby and Fiona headed down opposite sides of the court. Veronica looked to pass it and saw Naomi guarding Fiona who was looking less than confident. Then she saw Calvin raise her hand. She was completely open. No one expected Veronica to pass the ball to the one girl she beat up every other day. 

Veronica passed the ball. Abby caught it easy and dribbled it a step before shooting it circled the hoop before dropping in to the cheers of the team.

“Alright ladies time to get inside” one of the matron’s called from the door the girls shuffled to the door Naomi scooping the ball. 

“Nice shot Calvin” Naomi told her, shoving her shoulder as she passed. 

Abby grabbed her book and headed inside. She was heading down the hall at a casual pace before she was pinned to the wall. Veronica had her collar. “That was a one time thing you got that?” 

Abby blinked at the other girl “really? You're so insecure about your status you have to make that point?” she asked with every ounce of sass she could muster. 

Veronica growled and threw her to the floor Abby got on her feet and shoved Veronica’s middle. The bigger girl pushed her away and soon they were grabbing at each other pulling hair and scratching. Soon someone was there to pull them apart. 

“Why do any of us expect different of those two?” Abby heard Naomi mutter to Fiona as Abby and Veronica were led to the infirmary.  

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_

Abby POV.

“Bye Uncle Charlie” I called from the shade as the mathematician peeled off the fence of the batting cages and headed back to his car. 

“Bye Abbs” Charlie replied with a wave. I glanced over at my father as another crack of baseball on bat sounded. He was really starting to get into a rhythm, a proud smile on his face. I smiled lightly and returned to my reading. However there was only a moment of peace before Don appeared grabbing his water bottle and taking a swig.

“You want to take a few whacks?” He asked, gesturing to the batting cage. 

I shot another look over at the ball spitter. “Uh no thanks I’ve never really..” I trailed off gesturing at the cage with an implied statement and apathetic wave. 

Don looked at the cage then back at me with a small amount of shock evident in his face. “You’ve never played baseball before?” He asked in disbelief. 

“Maybe once in gym class” I shrugged answering honestly. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed Donald but I’m kinda on the nerd side of things” 

Don scoffed. “Come on” he grabbed my book and much to my relief remembered to put the bookmark in its place before closing it. “No daughter of mine is going to go through life without playing baseball”

I scoffed as I was pulled to my feet and given a helmet. I would normally put up a bit more of a fight but I knew that this sport meant a lot to him. So I kept my remarks to myself and went along with it. We headed out to the cage. He showed me what position to take. How to hold the bat properly and watch the ball. 

Even with his coaching it took a while before I actually hit the ball. When I did it was quite auspicious to us both. Despite it not going anywhere near where we wanted it to go. There was a lot of laughing and joking and we both left happy reliving the events in story with some subtle elaborations. Don excited to take me back some time.

Chapter 9 -> 

when dealing with humans you must always remember two things. Never underestimate human ingenuity, and never underestimate human stupidity.

i know vitamin c basically neutralizes adhd meds but lemonade good

normal websites will put ads all over the page. tumblr will just stick a header on top of their website for every single user telling them to log off. this is the only good social media site

to put your mind at ease: people who ramble when they get nervous are in fact cute and lovely and charming, I would not change you

The Derivative  Chapter 7: Commonalities

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 6 

“You know I think the fact that I’m not even questioning the giant projector screen with Alexander Hamilton’s face on it in the living room means that I’ve been living with you guys way too long” I muttered, tossing my bag on the couch as I entered the house. 

“Hello Abby” Uncle C greeted with a chuckle as he looked over the screen and began to mark one of the two versions of Hamilton’s face on the screen. 

“Whattcha doing?” I inquired. 

“The FBI is working on a counterfeiting case and I’m helping determine the differences between some old fake bills and new fake bills made by the same counterfeiter” he explained, pointing out which one of the Hamiltons was which.

I looked over the image “check in the center of his brow” I advised. 

Charlie looked up and quickly circled the defect. “Thank you” he murmured, circling another difference on the treasurer's nostril. 

“Hello” Don called in greeting as he entered the house. 

“Hello” Charlie muttered in response. 

“Hi,” I greeted. 

“What are you doing?” Don asked, eyeing the projector. 

“I’m running a comparison between the counterfeit bills you found earlier today and the older bills that that secret service agent lady gave us.” Charlie explained “there’s a possibility that the small differences may yield some data about their current operation. By the way, I did not mean to cause a problem earlier.'' He added the apology in right along with his sentence. 

“You don’t have to apologize for anything” Don objected “I mean Agent Hall and I are- are- I mean, we worked it out. So…” Don dismissed the issue with a sigh. “You know if I left a box of stuff here?” 

“What kind of stuff?” Charlie inquired. 

“It’s just this one box in particular.” Don explained “when I moved back from Albuquerque. I thought I got everything, but it’s not in my apartment. I can’t remember where I put it” he turned to me “have you seen a box of my stuff” 

I shook my head “I wouldn’t know what it was if I had” 

Don nodded “you check the garage?” Charlie suggested. 

“Yeah” Don replied then the front door opened “that you Dad?” he called heading over. “Hey let me get the door” he offered, helping Alan whose arms were full of groceries. 

“You must have some kind of sixth sense.” Alan declared “I buy rib-eye and you just materialize” 

“Well actually…” Don started then paused “you say rib-eye?” 

“Yeah” Alan nodded. 

“With, like, a baked potato?” he asked Alan just chuckled then he spotted Charlie’s set up. 

“Oh, very nice, Charlie” Alan sighed “so how long is this going to be?” 

“This is just for a few days.” Charlie assured as Don took a seat. “I needed to look at this as soon as I possibly could” Uncle C knelt at his computer and changed the screen to the upper right hand corner of the bills “Now the spiral patterns in money are based on a technique called guilloche. It’s like a wheel within a wheel within a wheel; a pattern created by the additions and multiplications of nested sine waves. Same was used by Faberge to create those little famous eggs” 

“Oh well that explains it” Alan muttered and I chuckled. 

“What does this have to do with the case?” Don questioned. 

“I think they have a new artist,” Charlie declared, “in fact, I'm sure of it.” 

“How can you tell that?” Don asked 

“I’ve been running a wavelet analysis of these spirals I’m talking about.” Charlie informed “mathematicians at Dartmouth use a similar process to test authenticity of masterpiece paintings. Here, look it..” Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out a real ten “alright ten dollars. Now we don’t often think about it, but someone must’ve drawn this design, right?”

“You’re right?” Don nodded. 

“I want you to think of that artist as a runner on the beach” Charlie gave the visual “he’s leaving footprints which record every decision he makes; faster, slower, closer to the water, farther away. Now these,” he gestured to the screen “are counterfeit bills, a second artist trying to copy the original. A second runner. Now, when that second runner tries to follow the exact same path as the first, it’s impossible. Even if he’s being careful he can’t match the footprints without leaving evidence of himself. Different foot size, different stride, that’s how you spot a forgery. And when a third runner tries to match the footprints, he’ll leave evidence as well, but in a different way than the second runner.” Charlie explained “these two counterfeit bills have two different footprints.”

“Hence the new artist.” Don inferred. 

“You find that artist..” 

“Charlie we can’t find the counterfeiter,” Don objected “let alone the artist” 

“You keep on saying he’s an artist, this guy.” Alan spoke up “he’s not really an artist is he? He’s more like a copier” 

“Well he has to have some skill to draw something so detailed” I commented. 

“It’s actually, it’s more like being able to draw, you know say, the Mona Lisa. freehand.” Don supplied. 

“Oh I see” Alan muttered picking up the grocery bags and heading toward the kitchen. 

“What I can do now, Don,” Charlie continued “is to take this initial comparative analysis and…” 

Don was no longer listening to Charlie instead he got up and pulled out his phone. “Hey David it’s Don. Look, I want to expand the search, okay? Not just counterfeiters, but art forgers. Yeah alright” he hung up the phone and turned to his brother “good work” he declared before heading after Alan into the kitchen. 

“I think we gave him an idea,” I told Charlie. 

“I think you’re right,” the man agreed. 

_______________

The cafeteria was probably my least favorite place in school. At least in the back of the classroom I could tune people out and it was mostly quiet. In the cafeteria everything was loud, people were moving and cliques ran rampant.

I took my tray and headed toward a booth in the corner that was empty. I was almost there when something caught my foot and I fell to the ground, my tray clattering and spraying the chicken noodle soup I had been about to eat everywhere. 

“Watch where you’re going reject!” A girl who had been splashed by my food snapped standing straight up. 

“Really making a habit of this huh street rat?” the girl who had made it a habit to trip me asked from behind as I got to my knees. 

“You could really stand to come up with better insults” I voiced casually keeping the anger out of my voice “you know I’ve been called some pretty creative things and you just ain’t cutting it” 

The girl who’d tripped me scoffed. “This shirt was designer” the girl I had gotten soup on screeched. 

I looked at the blue and white striped top “sorry but I think you got ripped off” I pointed out without thinking. 

“Hey you trying to pick a fight?” a boy asked standing up behind the girl. 

“No, I'm just trying to eat lunch,” I replied cautiously, starting to stand. 

“Yeah well if I were you I’d scram” he told me. I held up my hands in a defensive gesture and reached down to collect my tray. A hand grabbed my bicep yanking me back “I said scram” 

I was tossed back into the girl who had tripped me who launched me forward back toward the guy who was stepping forward fists clenched. “A street rat like you shouldn’t be here” the girl behind me snapped.

“Yeah and a bitch like you shouldn’t be gifted vocal chords looks like nobody wins” I countered looking back at her.

“Why you little-” she threw a punch that caught me in the jaw. I started to go down but grabbed her down with me. 

People had started chanting and gathering as we wrestled on the ground pulling hair, punching, and kicking. I had the upper hand by the time I was being grabbed and pulled off her by a pair of teachers. 

“Enough!” Clive yelled, stepping between us. As the other girl got helped to her feet all I could think was that I shouldn’t have taken Don’s deal. 

________________

3rd POV.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Don murmured. The group began to disperse heading to fill out reports and gather more information connected to this new finding. Don was about to follow when he got a call. 

He glanced at the phone and was surprised to see it was the number of his daughter’s school he sighed before answering “hello” 

“Hello Mr. Eppes this is Mrs. Clive I’m your daughter Abby’s teacher. We’ve talked before” the woman on the other side answered. 

“Yes I remember” Don replied already getting a bad feeling “is she okay?” 

“For the most part” The woman sighed, sounding tired from what Don could tell and slightly annoyed? “She was involved in a fight today at school during lunch” 

“She what?” Don asked immediately, agitated. “What happened?” 

“It was an altercation incited by some other students in the cafeteria” Clive explained “witnesses and video confirmed that the other girl threw the first punch but she’s still going to be having detention for all of next week” 

Don let off a breath his initial anger cooling “do I need to come pick her up?” 

“No she’ll be finishing out the day as normal but I would suggest talking to her about it” Clive stated “she’s right here” 

Don shook his head “yeah put her on” 

“Hello Donald” Abby muttered into the phone. 

“You alright?” he asked first. 

“Yeah I’m fine. Bloody lip some bruising, girl wasn’t that tough” Abby replied and he could visualize her shrugging as she said it. 

“What happened to making friends?” Don inquired. 

“I tried. I got punched” Abby muttered bluntly “does this negate the deal?” 

Don sighed “we’ll negotiate the finer points of the deal later” he paused “how’d the other girl turn out?” 

“Worse then me” Abby muttered and he heard the slight pride in her voice. 

“I don’t want to get more calls at work about you getting in fights” Don stated “but good job defending yourself” 

“Thanks Don” Abby replied a smile in her voice. 

“Yeah kid see you later” he told her. 

“Bye” 

He hung up and pocketed the phone. “What was that about?” Don turned surprised to find Kim looking at him from where she had been gathering files. He hadn’t realized she was still in the room. 

“My daughter got in a fight at school,” he explained. 

“Daughter?” Kim questioned straightening in surprise. 

“Uh yeah” Don muttered realizing how odd this was going to be to explain. “She’s sixteen. Me and her mother were together in college. I didn’t know until her mom died and she was sent to live with me two months ago. Her names Abby” 

“Abby” Kim nodded “you’re a dad. That’s uh that’s not really something I expected to find out”

“Yeah me neither” he joked lightly there was an awkward silent moment between them and he took the moment to retreat from the room. 

______________________

Abby POV. 

“You got in a fight at school?” Alan asked the minute I walked through the front door. 

I sighed “I didn’t start it.” 

“Don called and told me” Alan explained “what happened?” 

“Girl punched me. I punched back. She got suspended. I got detention” I muttered tossing my backpack on the couch. 

“Well why’d she punch you?” Alan pressed. 

I shrugged “she likes to trip kids she doesn’t like going through the halls and call them names I called her one back and she couldn’t take it” 

Alan sighed “Abby, you have to be the better person. Turn the other cheek” 

“My innate ability for sarcasm doesn’t really lend to that” I told him. “Where’s Uncle C by the way. I want to ask if I can help on the case” 

“I think he went downstairs,” Alan explained then looked at me closer. “Is your lips bleeding?” 

I brought a hand up to my lip and touched it causing a little sting. “It's nothing serious” I assured and headed past him toward the basement steps. 

Alan was right behind me. I descended the steps and looked to see Charlie pilfering through a box. “You sure you want to be looking through that stuff?” Alan spoke up behind me. 

The younger man straightened over the box slightly, pictures in his hand “Dad, do you recognize this lady?” he asked, holding up the picture as me and Alan reached the bottom of the steps. Alan passed me and took the photo looking at it and I peered over his arm at it. The image was of my Dad and a woman with long brown hair. She was on his shoulders as he held up his arms proudly. 

“Uh, yeah, it’s Kim, isn’t it?” Alan voiced. 

“That’s Kim Hall,” Charlie agreed. 

“Who’s Kim?” I asked. 

“She and Don lived together in New Mexico” Charlie explained “and, uh, he never told me about it.” 

“Well you know your brother.” Alan sighed. 

“Why do I get the feeling my dad has a lot of ex’s” I muttered. 

Alan made a face and nodded slightly as Charlie packed up the box. “You know we’d never heard your mother’s name until you showed up” Alan explained “Don’s just a very private person” 

“I guess everyone has a right to be private” I conceded knowing there were things I hadn’t told them about me. 

“Even to family?” Charlie sighed. 

______________________

“Alright I’m back” Alan decreed, sitting down across from me and setting a bowl of popcorn on the table. “You didn’t move any of these when I wasn’t here did you?” he gestured to our chess game.

“No of course not” I replied annoyed as I grabbed a couple pieces of popcorn from the bowl. 

“Alright what’s bothering you?” Alan inquired, moving one of his rooks on the board. 

“What do you mean?” I replied sliding my bishop a couple squares. 

“Well normally a comment like mine would have initiated a snarky response” Alan explained “remember your innate ability for sarcasm? Instead I got a short response. So what is the matter?”  

“Nothing” I replied as he moved one of his pieces and I quickly countered him. 

“Yeah right does this have something to do with the fight at school?” Alan inquired. 

“No” I gave him a look “you might not want to hear this but this isn’t my first fight” 

“Yeah I didn’t want to know that but somehow it’s not really a surprise” Alan sighed “check” I quickly countered the check. “Does it have something to do with Don and this woman?” 

“I just don’t get it,” I voiced. Alan gave me a look and I sighed “It’s just, my mom and me we had this agreement that I wouldn’t lie to her and she wouldn’t keep secrets from me” I explained. “But it’s like with Don” I ended with a huffed breath. 

“Donnie doesn’t really understand that when you have kids you have to talk to them.” Alan explained “now there are somethings that kids don’t need to know about but this woman coming back into his life I do think is something you need to talk to him about” 

“He didn’t even mention her when we talked on the phone earlier” I commented. 

“Well when you talked on the phone there was a more pressing matter” Alan pointed out. I let off a breath and nodded eating some more popcorn. “Abby, I have the feeling communication will never be your and Don’s strong suit but just ask him about it alright?” 

“Alright” I muttered. 

“Oh checkmate” Alan informed. 

“Damn” I sighed “again?” 

“Sure” Alan agreed and started resetting the board. 

I looked into the bowl of popcorn before turning to my grandfather. “Do you have any peanut butter?” 

________________

3rd POV. 

“That’s the good part” Kim commented coming up to Don as they watched the woman who had been held hostage reunite with her husband. 

“Yup” Don agreed. 

“I forgot how much I missed that.” Kim voiced. 

“It’s a good thing, right?” 

“Yeah” Kim sighed “everyone’s already at Kinsella’s” she explained “Figure the Secret Service owes the FBI a few rounds if you want to come.” 

“Well, actually, I got a bit of work to do here,” Don objected. “And I have to go get Abby from my dad’s house so” 

“Okay,” Kim agreed “we are going to trip over each other again, Don.” she pointed out “if you and Terry can be partners, we can at least try to..” 

“Yeah definitely” Don agreed. 

“Okay. well” Kim sighed “first rounds on me.” She started to walk away but paused glancing back at the man “you know that kid of yours is pretty lucky to have you as her dad. I’m sure you’re great at it” 

Don nodded and smiled as the woman left passing Terry as she went. “More interagency politics?” the man’s partner commented in passing. 

_____________________

Don unlocked the apartment door and headed inside followed by Abby. “so you basically had three kids ready to fight you and you still made a snarky comment?” 

Abby shrugged “the one girl was too prissy to throw down and I wasn’t sure the jock would hit a girl” 

“Yeah well” Don muttered, getting into the fridge to get a beer. Abby paused leaning on the counter. 

“So this Kim lady” she began and Don turned to her. “You guys were serious in the past right?” 

“Yeah” Don nodded “we were” 

“Okay” Abby bit her lip which stung a little since it was still cut and shifted on her feet. “You know me and my mom had this pact where we stopped keeping things from each other. And I don’t expect you to tell me everything. I mean I get not wanting to share but if anything comes up or like you know ex-girlfriends appear can you just clue me in. Please?” 

Each word was specifically chosen, Don could tell. She’d been thinking about this. She must have found out from Charlie or Alan. Part of Don felt annoyed at the idea that his relatives had told her about this but he knew she needed to know things. Her life was dependent on his now. 

“Okay” he agreed. Abby nodded with a slight smile. “Still you might want to put a lid on that attitude of yours or next time you might deserve to get punched” Don advised lightening the mood. 

“Hey I got it from you” the girl pointed out with a smirk before heading up the stairs to her room. Don sighed but a small smile came to his face. 

The man headed over to the couch and clicked on the tv. He watched it as he heard Abby moving around upstairs and eventually settle before there was a knock on his door. “Don?” 

He turned confused at his brother’s voice “Charlie?” he got up and headed to the door “you alright?” he opened the door to see his brother holding a box in his arms.

“Hey, I found this box. I thought I’d” he shuffled into the apartment.

“What? Bring it over at 2:00 in the morning?” Don questioned. 

“Yeah” Charlie muttered looking around the apartment. 

“Well keep it down Abby’s asleep” Don advised then he got a look at the box “what did you do? You opened it?” he took it away from his brother heading for the coffee table “what is with you, man? Even when we were kids, you were always going through my stuff.”

“You always had cool stuff” Charlie defended as Don sat down to look through the box's contents. His pace slowed as memories started to drift through his mind “seems like you left a lot of good friends back there, huh?” 

“Yeah, well, family first. Right?” Don muttered looking in the envelope his search had really been pointed toward.

“Right” Charlie murmured, still hanging near the doorway. Don pulled the ring from the envelope and shifted it in his fingers. Then he remembered Charlie was there looking up, they locked eyes and then quickly looked away. Don dropped the ring back in the envelope. 

“Look, I was going to tell you. I just..” Don trailed as he tried to gather his thoughts “I don’t know. I mean, we were in two different worlds. You know how it is.” Don sighed looking at a couple photos now “and mom got sick and… I don’t know.” 

“I understand” Charlie murmured. 

“Yeah?” Don looked for confirmation. 

“Yeah.” Charlie nodded “I agree we’re from, uh from two different worlds” 

“Well not so much lately” Don encouraged when he saw his father’s face fall 

“Yeah” a small smile appeared on Charlie’s face to match his brother’s. 

“See me all the time now.” Don pointed out. 

Charlie nodded “I’ve learned a lot from you, actually” he confessed. 

“Thanks” Don smiled. 

“Okay,” Charlie shifted uncomfortably on his feet. 

“You want to watch the rest of the movie” Don suggested pointing to the tv. 

“Okay sure” Charlie agreed, easily coming to sit in the chair next to the couch. 

“It’s a great flick” Don explained moving the box off the coffee table “it’s about baseball” 

“The most statistically driven sport in the world” Charlie commented. 

“You want a beer?” Don offered. 

“No thanks” Charlie objected politely, eyes on the screen. 

“Chip?” 

“I’m okay” 

Abby smiled from her place hidden on the steps. She could tell from the beginning that her uncle and father were from different worlds and she wasn’t sure which she understood more. Still she was glad they could find their common ground, maybe it held hope for a future where her own world made a bit more sense.

Chapter 8 -> 

jk rowling may not have caused transmisogyny in the uk, but by being a high-profile figure who actively supports transmisogyny and funnels money into transmisogynistic groups she is a huge influence in keeping it both alive and, more dangerously, seen as a legitimate viewpoint and ‘acceptable’ in the eyes of the media. it is dangerous to ignore this and to ignore her significant influence

I think this possibly might be the funniest thing I've ever seen

The Derivative  Chapter 6: People

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 5 

“Is there a reason you’re eating your lunch in the hallway?” I looked up at Mrs. Clive who had her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. 

“Ms. Rampart kicked me out of the library” I replied, turning back to my book. 

“And the cafeteria?” Clive pressed. 

“Is full of annoyances known as people” I explained. 

“You know if you interacted with them you might find that people aren’t as annoying as you might think” the woman suggested. 

“I find that highly unlikely,” I muttered. 

Clive made a humming noise of acknowledgement. “Your father called said you need to take the bus to your grandfather’s house” 

“Great another case” I grumbled. 

The bell rang. I packed my book into my backpack as kids started filing into the hallway. “Have a good day today Abby” 

“You too teach” I replied to Clive grabbing my tray of food and backpack heading toward the cafeteria. 

I made it around the corner before my foot hit something. In the next second I was hitting the ground, my tray flinging from my hand and clattering on the tile a foot away. “Better watch where you’re going street rat” the girl who had tripped me called giggling with her friends as they headed down the hallway. 

“Street rat? What are we in Aladdin?” I muttered getting to my knees and gathering what had spilled from my tray. 

____________

I climbed off the bus in front of my grandfather’s house with my nose in a book. “Hey you must be Abby right?” 

My head shot up and I turned to see a woman sitting in a car in front of the house smiling at me. “Uh yeah who are you?” I asked suspiciously. 

“I’m Amita. Charlie’s my thesis advisor” she explained extending a hand and setting down her own book. “I’m just waiting on him” 

I shook her hand as realization dawned on me “yeah I’ve heard of you” 

She nodded “you’re reading C.S. Lewis’s Narnia” she observed. 

I held up the brick of a book in my hand “yeah I found this copy that has all the books in one in the library and couldn’t resist” I explained. “I’m already on A Horse and His Boy” 

“I only read The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. I was curious after watching the movie” Amita explained. 

I smiled “yeah I loved the movie. The effects were great, especially the detail they put into making Aslan seem real. Plus the child actors were great and they stuck pretty close to the book for an adaptation” 

“Definitely” Amita agreed. “Are you a movie fan?” 

“Uh yeah” I nodded and opened my mouth to talk more when I saw Amita’s eyes shift to look behind me. 

“Hello Mr. Eppes” she called. I turned to see my grandfather walking across the front of the house. 

“Oh hi” he greeted, seeming caught off guard. 

“Nice to see you” Amita smiled. 

“Nice to see you again,” he agreed, hurrying to the door. 

I looked between Amita and the door “I should get inside I have homework” 

“Alright, it was nice talking to you” Amita smiled. 

“Uh yeah you too” I agreed and hurried up the steps to the front door following my grandfather inside. 

Charlie was there sitting at the coffee table. “...so I could check this text on encryption and code breaking” he was in the middle of telling Alan. 

“Uh, and you left her waiting in the car?” the elderly man questioned making Charlie look out the window at the woman. I looked between them briefly before going to sit in a chair on the other side of the room. “No, no this is not the way we treat people, Charlie.” Alan instructed his son as I tried to focus back on my book “you bring her inside, you at least offer her something to drink. You know, like an adult.” 

“We just stopped by for a second,” Charlie objected. 

“You came in fifteen minutes ago Charlie” Alan informed. “Meanwhile she’s just sitting in that car out there.” 

“Well, I just got caught up in something.” Charlie defended gathering his things. 

“Yeah, I know, I know” 

“I don’t see what the big deal is.” 

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Alan explained. 

“What?” Charlie murmured confused. 

“She likes you, you know?” Alan declared. That made Charlie freeze in his shuffling of papers and I peaked over the back of the chair I was sitting sideways in to watch them. “Aren’t you ever going to do something about that?” 

Charlie looked out the window at the woman and then at his father who turned to walk away. His face was something like sad and scared at the same time. Alan sighed and came over to where I was. 

“I hope you’re better with people than that,” he told me. 

“I wouldn’t bet on it Gramps” I replied, turning the page of my book. 

______________

“I know my due date,” David objected. 

“I’m sorry” Charlie replied. 

“They trying to show me up, man,” the agent chuckled. 

“No man” Don muttered. 

“I apologize,” Charlie repeated. 

“Okay, all right.” Terry nodded. 

“Here you go” Alan declared, setting a platter down in the middle of the table. Don and I both reached for the food first. 

“Excellent dad” Don smiled as we all gave Alan our thanks as he retreated back toward the kitchen. 

“No no no I was a  good student. No, I just couldn’t get into math.” Terry explained to the group “Couldn’t see how it could relate to the real world” Both me and Uncle C froze giving Terry a look. Charlie sat down his beer as David chuckled and Don sighed. I grabbed another piece of bread “what? What did I say?” the agent inquired. 

“I think you’re about to find out,” David informed her. 

“Oh you guys are on your own.” Don said getting up and tapping me on the shoulder telling me to follow him. “Good luck” 

Charlie began to explain to the agents how math was everywhere in the world as I followed Don toward the kitchen. “Did you really almost get blown up today?” I asked. 

“Yeah kinda almost did” Don sighed “David saved my ass” he gestured back to his agent. 

“You remember the promise you made me right?” I asked “about always fighting to stay alive” 

“Trust me kid I remember and I’m still holding to it alright” he reassured me and I nodded. “Listen I talked to that teacher of yours on the phone Mrs. Clive. She’s worried about you says your eating lunch in the hallway instead of the cafeteria” 

“A lot of kids don’t eat in the cafeteria,” I pointed out. 

“Do they also eat alone in the hallway?” he inquired. I shrugged in reply “yeah that’s what I thought. Listen Abby you can’t be afraid to make friends. I mean Charlie was in high school with a bunch of kids older than him and he still had friends I think you can manage it”

“Yeah but people like Charlie” I muttered. 

“People will like you too. I'm sure you just need to find the right people,” he advised me. “Here how about we make a deal. You sit in the cafeteria for a while, try it out. Now I’m not saying go up and talk to people but just be around them, see if anyone comes to you. Give it lets say a month no friends made you go back to sitting in the hallway” 

I gave him a look and thought about before letting off a breath “fine deal but if nothing happens you have to promise not to bug me about it again and take me to get ice cream” 

Don scoffed at my terms but nodded “deal” He turned to talk to Alan as Amita came out of the kitchen with the silverware for the table. 

“Here let me help” I offered and she handed over half the utensils. 

“Thanks” she smiled. “How’s Narnia coming?” 

“Good” I replied “I’m already on the next book in the series” 

“Wow you read fast” she commented. 

“Uh yeah it’s kind of a gift I have” I explained. 

“Charlie mentioned that” Amita agreed. “I think it’s really cool” 

“Yeah well you’d be in the minority” I scoffed. 

“Uh yeah let me guess school nerd girl?” she asked with a knowing look. 

“It’s either that or the street rat,” I explained. 

“High school girls are mean” Amita stated “I hated it. I feel bad for you but I’d take solace in the fact that you’re smarter than they are and one day what they call you will be more like a badge of honor than an insult” 

I chuckled “badge of honor really?” 

“Oh definitely” she nodded and gave me a double take “oh wow is that a Captain America shirt?” 

I looked down at my t-shirt before turning back to the college student “yeah he’s one of my favorites though Batman’s top of the list superhero wise. Each the respective favorites for me in their universes” 

“I always favored Marvel over DC, it seemed more colorful,” she pointed out. 

“Yeah but DC was angsty” I joked. We shared a laugh. “I wish there were people like you in school then I wouldn’t be so against making friends.” 

Amita scoffed “I’m sure there are you just got to find them. Plus in the meantime we could be friends” 

I looked up at her surprised “really? You want to be friends with a sassy high school genius?” 

“Are you kidding sassy highschool geniuses make the best friends” Amita stated and we laughed again. Maybe Clive was right, people weren’t as annoying as I assumed. 

Chapter 7 -> 

Ever get so confused you can feel the question marks popping out of your head?

This! I love when I hear someone say I’m great writer. But I’m inspired by people who comment about the details about a fic I’ve written! What they like about the characters or how they connect. It’s so motivating and simply seeing a comment like this makes my entire day!

THE MISCONCEPTION ABOUT COMMENTING ON FIC

I’ve read all kinds of posts both from writers and readers lamenting about comments on fic. Authors are upset when they don’t get any, readers don’t know what kinds of comments to leave, etc. And it finally clicked in my brain why I think a lot of people don’t bother writing comments. 

And this is what it boils down to:

Writers do not want praise.  We just want to talk about our story. 

I can’t speak for everyone obviously - but I think the majority of writers don’t care so much for the “omg you’re a brilliant writer!!” comments as much as we just want to hear your thoughts on the story. Even if it’s just your thoughts as you’re reading of “oooh x happened! I can’t believe y said this! What’s going to happen now that z has happened?!” We literally just want to talk about what we’ve written like you would with a friend about a tv show. We’re not out here demanding praise like some entitled narcissist. 

While praising our writing skills or writing style is appreciated, it doesn’t need to be said on every fic and every chapter that you read. If you regularly comment on someone’s work that’s telling enough that you like our technique. Readers shouldn’t feel pressured to have to praise a writer’s abilities every time they want to comment. 

In the grand scheme of things, talking about the fic/chapter is actually more helpful to us writers instead of spewing praise. It’s the same with artwork. As nice as it is that people tell me “wow your art is so pretty!” it’s a LOT more useful to me to get comments like “I love their expressions!” or “the lighting on this is gorgeous!” because then I know WHAT people are liking about it. If no one ever comments on my backgrounds, I now know what to improve. If most people comment on liking the expressions, I now know the strong points of my art and can use it to my advantage to make even better art in the future. 

The same goes for fic. If multiple people tell me they liked a certain part of the story I now know that things similar to that are a hit. It’s feedback I can use to improve the story and give my readers more of what they want. Without that I have no idea what they like about the fic.

Talking with a writer about their story also gives them inspiration!! Nothing gets us more in the mood to work on a fic than to have people wanting to talk about it. A lot of times just talking about one of my fics with someone will give me that push to continue working on it. Getting a comment that just says “great chapter” or “you’re a great writer” doesn’t do much to motivate us to continue that particular fic. But if you talk about the story and the characters it gives us motivation to continue working on it, may even give us ideas for future chapters. I would hope that those of you with “comment anxiety” find this approach so much easier than trying to praise the writer every time you read.

So that fic the author hasn’t updated in forever that you’re dying to read? Talk to them about the fic and the elements of the story! It will make the writer want to talk to you about it and will get their mind thinking about it, hopefully inspiring them to continue where they left off. Fics that are left in silence are more likely to be abandoned or even deleted because nothing feels worse than putting your heart into a story to have no one say anything about it. 

TLDR; Writers do not want praise, we just want to talk with our readers about the story itself, and these are the kinds of comments that inspire us to keep writing more. 

list of favorite things as a fanfic author:

When someone is really freaking mad at me for inducing an emotional response from them

when readers give me a background of how/when they read my writing

when readers give me a background of why they shouldn’t have been reading my writing (usually while at work)

when readers quote my work back to me in comments

the frickin’ real heroes here, the ones who comment on every chapter of an ongoing multi-chapter fic