Ms. Heppler sat at her desk, grading papers. Muttering to herself as she made corrections, she used her red pen with great zeal. A brief tap at the door made her look up.

“Yes, what is it?” she called out impatiently.

“Lisa Brown’s mother is here,” a young secretary explained nervously.

“Send her in,” Ms. Heppler replied. “She’s fifteen minutes late as it is.”

“Y-yes,” stammered the secretary, “but--”

“--I said to send her in. It’s bad enough she’s wasting my time. She’s usually quite punctual.”

“That’s what I was going to tell you. She--”

“--Damn it, Penny, send her in now!”

“Fine,” Penny grumbled, shooting Ms. Heppler a dirty look; Ms. Heppler did not notice, as she had gone back to grading the test papers. “I won’t tell you, then. Let you deal with that on your own.” She stepped aside to let Tacita in and shut the door. Then, she peeked through the small glass window, eager to see what would happen.

“Ms. Foley-Cloud, I--” Ms. Heppler began, initially not looking up from the papers. She looked up briefly, then gave a start. “You’re not Ms. Foley-Cloud!”


“I’m Tacita Brown, Lisa’s biological mother,” Tacita introduced herself, folding her arms. “Sorry I’m late; there was a traffic jam. What did you want to talk about?”

“Why isn’t Ms. Foley-Cloud here? Normally, if there is an issue--”

“--I’ve been raising my daughter for the past week,” Tacita interrupted. “She has been living with me. As my daughter’s biological parent, I should be the one spoken to about anything involving my child.”

“W-well, then,” Ms. Heppler responded, not knowing what else to say. She was rather caught off-guard by Tacita. “Ms. Brown, Lisa… your daughter…”

“Yeah, what about her?”

“Well, she’s really been acting up for…” Ms. Heppler briefly consulted her notes. “…For a week, now. Not turning in homework, refusing to participate in class activities, talking to and playing with classmates when she should be doing classwork. Also, she has been falling asleep in class.”

“Well, she has been staying up late, watching those silly movies kids like,” Tacita replied. “And she always tells me she doesn’t have any homework, or that she did it all while she was at school.”

Ms. Heppler frowned, making quiet disapproving sounds. “It’s just that she doesn’t typically act this way. I mean, I’ve had to speak with Ms. Foley-Cloud a few times throughout the year, but that was for small incidents.” She checked her notes again. “One instance of forgetting her journal at home. Two instances of talking with classmates instead of playing, both at the beginning of the semester. Up until last week, the biggest repeated problem I had with Lisa was that she forgot to get her pencil sharpened when I provided time for it, and that was solved by her getting a small hand sharpener.”

Tacita looked around, looking bored. She was ignoring most of what Ms. Heppler said. Ms. Heppler cleared her throat, and Tacita jumped a little.

“The point is,” Ms. Heppler said sternly, “I think that the recent… shall we say, changes in parenting… they’ve affected Lisa’s behavior. I think some changes at home… stricter rules and guidelines… they may improve the current situation.” She pulled open a drawer and rummaged through it. “I have some pamphlets and printouts that might--”

“--You have got to be kidding!” Tacita exclaimed. “A kid goes from one living situation to another, and you don’t expect that there’s going to be some changes in the kid while she adjusts? Tell me something, do you have kids?”

“I don’t see how that is any concern of yours.”

“I bet you don’t. Look, don’t try to tell me how to raise my kid. She’s just adjusting to a new situation. I bet in a few weeks or so, she’ll be back to normal.”

“Your daughter said that she was up until four in the morning yesterday watching Pulp Fiction. That’s more than just going from one living situation to another.” Then, with a sigh, Ms. Heppler added, “I’m trying to advocate on behalf of Lisa. She needs sleep and discipline. She’s a very bright child; I don’t want to see that wasted. I want what is best for every one of my students. Don’t you want what’s best for your daughter?”


Ophelia wearily stepped into her house. “I’m home,” she called out, setting her bag down.

Cy stepped into the foyer from the living room, smiling nervously. “Sweetie,” she said. “I’ve been worried about you. So, I… please don’t get angry…”

“Why would I get angry?” Ophelia asked. “What happened?”

“I invited some of your friends over to… you know, give you support and encouragement. You’re going through a tough time, and I can’t be the only one to help you.” Cy took Ophelia’s hand and led her into the living room, where many of her friends sat.


Emily stood and hugged her. “Lia, as soon as I heard what happened, I took some time off to come visit with you. Do you need anything?”

“You were there for a lot of us when we were going through rough times,” Jade said. “So, I guess it’s time for us to do the same.”

Tiffani smiled and said, “We might have had our differences, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Look how many of your friends care about you.”

“We’re going to help you through this,” Gideon said. “All of us.”

“Is there anything we can do for you?” Charise asked.

Ophelia looked around at her friends, tears in her eyes. “…Anything I need? I… I have everything I need right here. I’ve got the best friends anyone could ever ask for, and the most caring partner ever.”

“Uh… actually, there’s one person I invited…” Cy stammered. “You might be a little angry… she’s not here yet. I mean… I know you two have had some fights, but… well…”


Just then, the doorbell rang. Ophelia hurried to answer the door; she opened it, and Mae stood there, holding several bags.

“Figured you might not be up to cooking, so I whipped together a bunch of stuff for you,” Mae said, smiling awkwardly. “Spaghetti, mashed potatoes, things like that. Stuff I remembered that you liked. I just wanted to drop this stuff off. I’ll go, if you want.”

Mae handed Ophelia and Cy the food container-filled bags, then turned to leave.

“No, wait,” Ophelia said. “Come hang out with us for a while.”

One week later…

“As we’ve discussed before,” AJ said, tapping his fingers on the table, “it’s a rather expensive procedure. Additionally, there’s no guarantee that it will be successful. Many people have needed multiple--”

“--Cut the professional talk,” Ophelia interrupted. “We’re friends, AJ. Talk to me in nice, simple English. Is it possible?”

“You know as well as anyone else that it’s medically possible,” AJ responded. “That’s not the point. It’s costly and time-consuming. Just finding someone willing to--”

“--Yeah, you’ve told me that plenty of times. Money isn’t an issue for us,” Ophelia said. Cy nodded, agreeing with Ophelia.

“And there’s a lot of possible complications to worry about. It’s not as simple as just popping into the doctor’s office and handing him some money.”

“Look, AJ, I know that much. I’m just asking about whether or not it’s feasible. Cy and I have discussed this for quite a while, and we think it’s a good option for us. Unless, of course, you don’t think it’s feasible or possible.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just--”

Just then, Ophelia’s cell phone rang. She smiled apologetically and answered it. “Yeah, hello?” She frowned. “Tacita, what do you want from me now?… Mmm… yeah… well, you said you wanted to be responsible and-- …Yeah, well, that’s what being an adult--” Ophelia sighed loudly. “Fine, fine,” she snapped. “Yeah, I’ll meet you there. Yeah. Same to you.” She hung up and shoved her phone back into her pocket.

“What was that about?” Cy asked.

“Tacita’s been having a lot of problems with Lisa, and she wants to have a talk with me.”

“Seriously?” AJ responded.

“Yeah. I’ll be back in about an hour or so. Cy, you discuss everything with AJ and figure out what we’re going to do. I trust your decision in this.”


Ophelia eased herself out of her car and began making her way across the street to the park. In the process, she was nearly hit by a speeding car.

“Hey,” she yelled out at the driver. “Watch where you’re going, you jerk! You almost hit me!”

“Should have watched where you were going!” the driver yelled back in response.

Scowling, Ophelia hurried over to where Tacita was waiting. Lisa played nearby.

“Well, I’m here,” Ophelia announced, frowning. “What do you want?”

Hearing her voice, Lisa raced over. “Ms. Lia!” she squealed gleefully, hugging Ophelia tightly. “I missed you so much!”

“I bet you did, sweetheart. I missed you, too,” Ophelia responded, smiling. “Have you been giving your mom trouble?”

“Yes, she has,” Tacita snapped, pulling out a small stack of papers out of her purse. “Ophelia, we have a lot to discuss.”

Ophelia sighed, then to Lisa, she said softly, “Go play over there, sweetie. We can talk later.”

“Okay,” Lisa responded reluctantly.

Ophelia watched Lisa walk despondently over to the nearby swing set. Then, to Tacita, she said, “So, what did you want to discuss?”

“Lisa’s grades have been going down the drain since she’s moved in with me. Look!” Tacita replied, shoving the papers into Ophelia’s hands. “She’s gone from A’s and B’s to getting C’s and D’s. And her teacher has called me in multiple times for conferences, and--”

“--You said you wanted to do the adult thing and take care of Lisa,” Ophelia interrupted. “Well, guess what, kids aren’t perfect. They don’t act exactly the way you want them to.”

“Why is she suddenly becoming such a problem now?”

“Maybe because you’re too lenient?” Ophelia asked, scanning the teacher reports. “Falling asleep in class, disruptive behaviors, forgetting various supplies…” Ophelia looked up at Tacita. “I bet you’ve been letting her stay up late, eat all sorts of junk food…”

“That’s… I just want her to like me. And--”


Tacita, hearing an all too familiar voice, looked over to where Lisa was playing. She saw Lisa conversing with the last person she wanted her interacting with. Tacita stormed over.

“…a looker like your mom,” she heard Mark saying to Lisa.

“Thanks!” Lisa giggled.

Glaring, Tacita yelled, “You get away from her!”

Mark looked over at her, surprised by her outburst. “Hi, Tacita,” he greeted her. “Long time no see.”

“Not long enough in my book, Mark,” Tacita snapped, scowling. “Lisa, you come here immediately. We’re going home.” She grabbed Lisa’s arm and tugged her closer. “And as for you,” she added, giving Mark the look of death, “are there no depths you won’t sink to?”

“My God,” Mark grumbled, “we were just talking. Can’t a guy talk to his, y’know, his old friend’s daughter? I mean, what do you think I am?”

“I know what you are, Mark. I’ve know what you were for years, and don’t you ever forget that.” She turned to Lisa and directed, “Get in the car, Lisa!”

“Tacita,” Mark pleaded, “listen, I thought we’d settled all that a long time ago.”

“No, things like that don’t ever get settled. Not completely.”

Ophelia rushed over. “Look, this is getting ridiculous. Tacita, you need to go home and chill out. There’s no reason for you to get so upset with him…” A strange thought manifested in her head. “Unless…” Her eyes widened.

“Ophelia, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you need to stop,” Tacita snapped. She tugged at Lisa’s arm again. “Come on, Lisa. We’re going home.”

“No!” Lisa screamed. “I’m not! I’m not getting in that car! I want to live with Ms. Lia and Ms. C again!”

“Damn it, Lisa, I am your mother, and--”

“You’re not my mom!” Lisa screamed. She yanked her arm free and bolted for the street.

Tacita stared in shock and horror. A car was speeding toward the upset child. She could not move. Ophelia, however, was not frozen with shock. She raced after Lisa and yanked her back from the street at the last second.


“You idiot! Watch your damn speed!” Ophelia screamed at the driver. “You almost hit a kid!”

“Well, she shouldn’t have run out into the road!” came the angry response.

“There’s a reason there’s a speed limit posted,” Ophelia snapped, but she was no longer focused on the driver. She felt Lisa for any injuries. “Are you okay?” she whispered to the frightened child.

Tacita and Mark hurried over. Lisa clung to Ophelia tightly and sobbed, “Mommy… Mommy…”

Ophelia stroked Lisa’s hair and back, trying to comfort the girl. Tacita stared at them for a long time, then looked over at Mark. With a sigh, she said, “Lisa, you should probably go home with Ms. Lia. I have something really important to take care of.”


Tacita shakily sat down, her head spinning. The past few weeks had been hectic, but now… now, she knew what she had to do. She uncapped the bottle of whiskey and took a deep gulp of it. Ignoring the burning sensation in her throat, she rummaged through the desk, seeking out the paperwork that she had been given so many years ago.

“Where?” she muttered to herself, chewing on her lower lip. “Where did I put that stupid thing?”

Finally, at the very back of the very last drawer, she found the small stack of paperwork. With a sigh, she looked it over, nodding to herself. “It has to be done,” she muttered to herself. “There’s no way I can handle this.”

She dropped the papers onto the desk, then picked up her phone. She rapidly dialed a phone number and waited for a response. One finally came.

“Hey, this is Tacita. Yeah… yeah, it’s been a while, I know. Look, I have some paperwork I want you to look over. It’s really important, so… maybe today? Yeah? That’s just fine, then. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

She shut the phone and pocketed it, sighing. If I had only known… she thought to herself. But that thing… that’s the straw that broke the camel’s back. This is the only solution I can think of…

Tacita’s phone rang, and she answered it. “Yeah?”

“Tacita, this is Ellie from Gaines and Family Law,” came the response. “We’ve arranged a meeting with George. What is it that you wanted us to look over?”

Tacita took a deep breath, then replied slowly, “Adoption papers.”

Sean hummed to himself as he strolled over to the tree. He looked it over contemplatively. Large, shady, and no noticeable bugs on the bark or leaves; he approved. He sat on the ground and leaned against the trunk of the tree, smiling. Yes, this would be an excellent place to spend the afternoon reading. He flipped open the thick book and began to read.

His happiness was short-lived, however. In the distance, he could hear voices coming ever closer by the second, and they did not sound happy.

“And you’re so ugly! Those big glasses and fat cheeks!”

“Leave me alone!”

“Loser! Geekazoid!”

Sighing in frustration, Sean peered around the trunk of the tree. “What’s going on over there?” he muttered. “At least do that someplace where no one else can see or hear you.”

His eyes widened as the speakers came into view. A young blonde girl and a similar-aged girl; the blonde girl was being followed by the other girl, who was yelling insults. She then grabbed the blonde girl by the arm, yanked her around to face her, and slapped her across her face.

“And look at me when I’m talking to you!”

“Hey, that’s going a little too far,” Sean whispered, scowling. He tossed the book aside and rose to his feet. As he ran toward them, he yelled, “Hey, leave her alone!”

“Says who?” threatened the younger girl.

“Says me,” Sean replied. He looked to the blonde girl and asked, “Are you okay?” His eyes widened when he saw who it was. “Eva?” he gasped. He put his hands protectively on Eva’s shoulders and said to the bully, “Leave her alone now.” Then, to Eva, he added, “Come on. Let’s go home. I’m not going to let her bother you while I’m around. Got it?”

Eva nodded and followed Sean as he guided her away from the other girl.

“Are you going to be okay?” Sean asked.

“Yeah, I guess so. Laney is really mean. I don’t know what she has against me.”

“Some people are just mean. It doesn’t matter who they’re mean to, so long as they feel like the better person. You’re a good kid, Eva. You don’t need to put up with that kind of thing. But, look, if she does something like that again, let me or your mom or your sisters or someone you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”


By this time, they had reached Eva’s house. Sean patted her on the back and said, “Stay safe, kiddo.”

“Yeah, I will,” Eva responded. She walked into the house, and up the stairs. She flopped onto her bed and stared pensively up at the ceiling.

Leah walked into the room and peered at her older sister. “Hey, Eva. What’s up with you?” she asked.

Eva rolled over onto her side and looked at Leah. “Hey, Leah, I have a question.”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Leah, how do you know when a guy likes you?”

Jane stared at her two sisters in disbelief. “You want to know what?” she asked, setting down a tube of lip gloss.

“How do you know when a guy likes you?” Eva repeated.

“She thinks someone likes her!” Leah added, grinning.

“Seriously?” Jane asked. “I mean, is this some kind of joke?”

“Well, I kind of figured you’d know more than either of us,” Leah replied.

Jane sighed. “Fine,” she acquiesced. “I guess I do have more experience than either of you. But you know where you can get even more information from people with even more experience? The internet!” She walked over to her computer, followed by her sisters. “So, what do you want to know?”

“How to tell if a guy likes you,” Eva replied.


“Okay, no problem,” Jane responded, typing a few words into a search engine. After a few seconds, she began reading the results of the search aloud. “He’s not that into you… loves me, loves me not… leave a clone of himself with her in the alternate universe…” Jane looked up at her sisters. “Who wrote that one?” She rolled her eyes, then continued down the list. “Here we go,” she finally said. “Signs he likes you, signs he doesn’t.”

“What does it say?” Eva asked excitedly.

Jane smirked and blocked Eva’s view of the computer screen. “First, tell me who it is.”

“Come on, Jane, don’t joke like this. I need to know,” Eva pleaded, trying to see the screen.

“Nope. Come on, you can tell your big sister. I mean, he’s probably some stupid kid I have no interest in.”


“I’ll tell you who it is!” Leah giggled.

“Leah, don’t!” Eva wailed.

“Come on, Leah, tell me,” Jane demanded at the same time.

Leah smirked and replied, “Who’s going to offer me the better deal?”

“You evil little thing,” Eva whined. “You said you wouldn’t tell!”

“That was before you asked Jane for help,” Leah replied.

“Just tell me!” Jane yelled. “Or else I’ll… I’ll… eat all the cookies Mom made today.”

“Wow… I think she’s serious, Eva,” Leah whispered.

“Backstabber,” Eva shot back at her younger sister. To Jane, she said, slowly and reluctantly, “It’s Sean.”

Jane snickered. “Seriously? Sean? That’s what the big fuss is about?”

“Yeah. So, can I see the computer or not?” Eva asked.

“Sure,” Jane replied. “The info on that site sucks anyway.”

Eva glared at Jane. “I hate you,” she muttered.

“Got you to admit to who it was,” Jane responded, grinning triumphantly.

Author's Note: Sorry about the epic suckiness of the past few updates, as well as the lack of them. I've been busy with grad school, as well as getting the paperwork together for my internship. In addition, I have had np internet access at home since late January. I'm actually updating this after work. On a more cheerful note, check out the fan site for a few bits of spoilerish V-Day lagniappe!


Eva stared at her reflection, stunned. Jane grinned and lightly poked her sister in the shoulder. “Not bad, huh?” she asked. “I mean, given what I had to work with.”

“I look so different,” Eva said slowly.

“I just made you look cooler than ever. I just used the pictures in the latest Preteen Magazine as a guide. Mainly, the segment on what guys like. I mean, I couldn’t do it exactly-- you need your glasses, and I couldn’t make your hair grow out about a foot-- but you look pretty decent now. Sean is going to love you!”

“I look old,” Eva finally said. “I look like I’m… I dunno… fifteen?”

“Well, what guy is going to want a kid in the single digits, huh?”

“Sean’s, like, twelve! Do guys really like girls older than them when they’re twelve?”

“Eva,” Leah finally spoke up. “Chillax. If Sean likes you, he likes you. If he doesn’t, then, well, he doesn’t. No big deal. You do look different, though.” Frowning a little, she muttered to herself, “Not right, either.”

“You look great,” Jane insisted. She pulled Eva toward the door. “Go get him, tiger!”


Eva peeked out into the hallway. Coast’s clear, she thought, easing though the doorway and down the hall. Jane and Leah watched her, silently cheering her on. Eva made her way to the front door. Just then, Tiffani stepped into the living room.

Dang, Jane thought. How do parents always know when you’re up to stuff?

“Eva, what’s that on your face?” Tiffani asked, frowning. She peered at her daughter and shook her head disapprovingly. “Look at you, makeup all over your face. And the way you’re dressed! I’d expect this kind of thing out of Jane, maybe, but not from you! March yourself back upstairs and clean yourself up, young lady.”

Eva sighed and nodded, embarrassed to be scolded by her mother. As she headed back down the hallway, Tiffani called out, “And Jane, if you ever put makeup on your sister again without my permission, you’re in serious trouble.”

“Shoot… how does she know?” Jane muttered, scurrying back to her room.


“Well, so much for that,” Eva grumbled, glaring at her sister. “I knew it was a bad idea.”

“We just need to take a different approach,” Jane replied.

“Yeah, and how’s that going to go?”

“You could always do it when we’re at school or something,” Leah spoke up.

“See?” Jane said.

“But Sean doesn’t go to our school,” Eva responded.

“Yeah, but his school’s near our school, right?” Jane answered. “You can just swing by there and say ‘hi.’ Nothing wrong with that, correct?”

“Maybe,” Eva said slowly. “But somehow, I get the feeling this won’t go so well.”

well done on continuing a story so far. its sensational stuff!

Thanks! I'll try to update when I can; I've been busy with school, as well as applying to a site I want to do my practicum and internship at. I have more ideas for the story than time to write it all!

I spent from 6pm-3am reading this as I couldn't stop. Thank you so much for such an involving story. And your gypsy use was spectacular enough for me to start my own story just based on the gypsy premise.

Writing an update today. Going to try to update it tomorrow, when I have the time. Sorry it's been so long-- had a lot of stuff on my plate that needed to be taken care of!

Author's Note: Guys, I'm sorry it took so long to update the story. Since the previous update, I've had a lot to take care of. Aside from my usual school, work, and research responsibilities, I had to send in paperwork and do interviews for practicum/internship (I was accepted at my site of choice and start in the fall!). Also, in the past few weeks, I've had problems with the joints in my right knee. As I don't have internet at my apartment, updating the story means either hauling my 8 pound laptop to campus to use the internet or doing so after work, while waiting for my boyfriend. I'm sorry the updates have been scarce, but I will try to do some more now that the semester is nearly over.

“This is really not going to go well,” Eva muttered, glaring at her older sister.

Jane shrugged and admired her handiwork. “You look great, sis. Really,” she assured Eva. “He’s going to fall all over you.”

“Is that really what we want?”

“Well, if he doesn’t like you, then there might be some other guys there who might be interested.”

Eva stared at Jane, then screamed, “What the heck kind of guy goes after someone a whole three years younger than him?!”

“Well, look at the age difference between Nathan’s parents. Or… or… uh… Ms. Valo and her husband.”

“But her husband’s dead!”

Leah sighed and decided to intercede. “This isn’t helping matters,” she spoke up. “Look, Eva, let’s just go to the school, talk to him, and move on.”

Jane eyed Leah, then said, “Are you sure we’re related? And that you’re the baby?”

“Last I checked. Trust me, I’m no happier about it than you.”

“Let’s get going,” Eva sighed.


Leah looked around at the big group of preteens hanging around outside the middle school. “They’re huge,” she whispered fearfully.

“Not really,” Jane muttered. She scanned the area, then elbowed Eva. “Look, that’s Sean over there.”

“Who’s that he’s talking to?” Eva asked, indicating the pretty girl next to him.

“Well, we’re going to find out, aren’t we?” Jane responded. She lead her sisters over to Sean. “Hey,” she greeted him.

“Hi,” he replied. “Uh, what are you doing here? Aren’t you all in elementary school?”

“Yeah, but--”

The girl next to Sean squealed and ran her hands over Leah’s hair. “Ooh, you are so adorable! Look at your hair! Can I go do stuff with her hair?” she asked Eva and Jane.

“Yeah, sure, go ahead,” Jane replied carelessly. She elbowed Eva. “Say it!” she coaxed her sister.

“So, um…” Eva started. She swallowed hard, feeling anxious. “Uh…”

“So, why are you dressed like that?” Sean asked.

“W-why?” Eva stammered.

“It just doesn’t look… well, right on you. You look better how you normally dress, instead of looking like a wannabe Jane clone. Sorry, Jane. No offense.”

“None taken. But, Sean, that’s exactly why we’re here,” Jane replied.

“What?”

“We’re here to find out if you like Eva!”

Eva looked at her toes, blushing furiously. She was embarrassed that her sister was making such a spectacle of this.


Sean sighed, grabbed Eva’s arm, and pulled her over to the side, out of Jane’s hearing. “Look,” he said quietly. “I don’t know where Jane got that idea. I like you, but, you know, as a friend. Not… you know… I don’t like like you.”

“But… but you stood up for me that time,” Eva replied, confused.

“Because you’re my friend. I wouldn’t be a very good person if I let any of my friends get picked on.”

“…Is it that you have a girlfriend already?”

“What?! No! What made you think that?”

“That girl you were talking to.”

“Who, Crystal? She’s just in a bunch of my classes. We were talking about homework before you showed up.” Sean sighed. “Look, Eva, this whole thing’s just been a big confusion. I think you and your sisters need to get to school before you’re late. Okay?”

“Yeah… sure.”


Eva walked over to Jane, who was tapping her foot impatiently. “Well?” Jane demanded. “What did he say?”

“That he just likes me as a friend.”

“That’s a lie,” Jane responded, rolling her eyes. “He’s just making excuses.” She looked around. “Where’s Leah?”

Eva pointed. “Over there. I think we’d better rescue her.”

Jane and Eva walked over to Leah, who was surrounded by a group of giggling girls. As they approached, Leah broke through the group, looking horrified. Her hair had been done up in pigtails, and she wore makeup.

“Get me away from them, now!” Leah screamed.

“I think we’d better get to school,” Jane said.

“He better have proposed,” Leah grumbled, yanking the barrettes out of her hair and wiping off the makeup. “I’m never going through that ever again!”

Awesome story I love it

The hand, freshly polished red nails glistening, whipped through the air and struck the startled woman across the face. The struck woman fell back against the wall from the force of the blow and glared at her attacker and accomplices.

“You disgust me!” Wild Honey Pie shrieked.

“It’s all your fault,” Eleanor Rigby added, stepping closer to the woman she’d just struck.

“Mark doesn’t want anything to do with us anymore,” spoke up a third woman, Prudence. “I mean, he hasn’t paid much mind to us since you’ve been around, but lately, it’s gotten real bad. Did you know, before you came, Lucy and Lady Madonna were his favorites?”

“And now, what are we?” Lucy snapped. “Nothing!”

“You tell her, Lucy!” Lady Madonna encouraged.

“You’re just here because Mark felt sorry for you,” Eleanor Rigby sneered. “Bought you off of that other musician guy. You’re like his f***ing little pet.”

“Does he give you a treat every time you do stuff for him in bed?” Lady Madonna quipped.

“You know, I’ve always wondered if maybe he was… you know, not right,” Prudence mused aloud. “Hey, Taste of Honey, I bet you’re just his beard. What do you think of that? You’re either a pity **** or a beard.”

Andi, the aforementioned Taste of Honey, who had remained silent until this point, doing her best to ignore the groupies as they mocked her and struck at her, straightened her back. She squared her shoulders and gave each woman a look of pure hatred.

“You all make me sick,” she finally spat out. “Jealous b****es, the lot of you. I owe Mark my life. And you know what? If that means being his pet, being his beard… hell, being his ****ing servant, then so be it! It’s a lot better than what I was dealing with before I met him. None of you would last a week, what I had to go through. And as for your speculation about the bedroom activities, here’s a little something for you to ponder: I’ve probably done about as much with him as Eleanor Rigby, here.”

Prudence, Wild Honey Pie, Lucy, and Lady Madonna looked perplexed at this last remark. However, Eleanor Rigby was far less confused.

“You little--!” she screamed, leaping at Andi.


Andi slowly opened her eyes and groaned. Her face and arms hurt a lot. At least she wasn’t being beaten up; she was in one of the private rooms. At this sound, Mark hurried over to her side.

“Hey,” he whispered. “You okay?”

“Not really. I feel like I went a couple rounds with Tyson and Foreman,” Andi wearily replied.

“Close. Eleanor Rigby beat you up pretty good, and I think the others got in a couple whacks, too. I had to pull them off of you, and I got Doc to patch you up. It’s a good thing you can’t see your face… someone better cut off Rigby’s nails; she clawed you up. You’ll heal, though.”

“I don’t care,” Andi muttered, trying to roll over so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

“Hey, what’s wrong? I mean, aside from what happened?”

Andi shook her head. “Don’t worry about it,” she snapped, turning her back to him.

Mark sighed and rubbed her back. “The fight was about me, wasn’t it?”

“Kind of. They hate me. You know that. They think I get special treatment. No, they know I get special treatment. And it ticks them off.”

“Well, you’re not some stupid groupie. Of course I’m going to treat you better. You mean more to me.”

“Yeah, well, if you heard some of the stuff they thought, you’d want to retract that statement,” Andi responded bitterly. “You know, sometimes I wonder why you even bothered. All this bull**** just isn‘t worth it, sometimes.” She rolled back over and frowned at Mark. “What was I, Mark? Some special project? Something to make you feel better about yourself?”

“Andi… you, of all people, should know better. It’s not like that. What the hell kind of person would I have been to just leave you there, after what I saw? And look how well you’ve turned out. You’re a better person now.”

“And now, since I owe you for saving my life, you own it?”

“You know you were free to leave at any time.”

“It’s just not that simple.”

“Is that so?”

Mark sighed and rose to his feet. Looking Andi over, he frowned, then turned and walked out the door, his head filled with thoughts. Sitting near the door were Eleanor Rigby and Wild Honey Pie.

“Well, how is she?” Eleanor Rigby asked, between puffs of her cigarette.

“Pretty bruised up, no thanks to you,” Mark responded sharply. “Why did you have to go and do a thing like that?”

“She needs to know her place,” Wild Honey Pie spoke up. “She walks around like she owns the place. She needed to be taken down a notch.”

“Well, don’t do that again,” Mark snapped. “If anyone needs to be taken down a peg, it’s you two. Don’t ever do that, seriously. Taste of Honey… she’s…” He hesitated. What he wanted to say was, She’s special. But he knew that was the precise reason that the women had been so cruel toward Andi. “She’s the closest thing to family that I have,” he finished. “If you hurt her, you’re as good as hurting me. Another stunt like that, and you’re out. I don’t care what the other guys say, who you’re sleeping with, or whose kid you’re currently carrying. Do anything like that again, and you’re out on youe a**es quicker than you can say ‘rejected.’ You’re both replaceable.”

With that said, he turned on his heel and strode back to the room where Andi was, with Wild Honey Pie and Eleanor Rigby staring at him in shock and disbelief.

Mark flopped down onto the bed beside Andi, who was now asleep. With a sigh, he wrapped his arms protectively around her and closed his eyes.

How dare they hurt her like that? he thought furiously. How dare they?! After everything she’s been through, after doing so much to better herself… and they do this to her.

Mark took several slow, deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Memories from the past flooded his mind.

If they only knew what she’d been through… and I was there for her every step of the way, he thought. And I swear, if they lay another finger on her again, I’ll kill them. Andi… she’s my friend, and one of the few people who would swear that I’m an okay person. No one’s immortal. Even I won’t live forever in people’s memories. When I’m gone, what will live forever is how I treated people. I may have done some lousy things in my life, but at least Andi’s living proof that I’m capable of doing good things…


Mark stared at the young girl, the disturbingly young girl who had been left with him, and wondered what he had gotten himself into…

Not long before, he had been given the details on what would be the recording of his very first album. “We’ll have you stay with one of our other musicians, Ace Nix. He lives near the studio and regularly hosts a lot of our newcomers,” Mark had been told. “We hear he’s very generous.”

Generous, indeed. Perhaps that wasn’t the best descriptor. As Mark was ushered into Ace Nix’s home, he had noticed that there were quite a few women there.

“Do they all live here?” Mark asked, noting a woman who was wearing too few pieces of clothing for his comfort.

“Not always,” Ace replied, leading Mark down a hall. “But, you know, I never say ‘no’ to a lady in distress.” He indicated a door. “That’s your room. I’ll send someone by in a minute to check up on you, and then make sure someone takes care of whatever you need.”

“Uh, sure. That’s nice,” Mark stammered, opening the door and stepping into the room. His eyes widened at the room-- spacious, with decorations and furnishings that he knew were not cheap. Mark flopped onto the bed, leaving his suitcase near the door, and stared up at the ceiling.

A soft knocking at the door made Mark sit straight up. “Yeah, come in,” he called out.

A petite young woman stepped into the room. “Hi, I’m Delilah,” she greeted him, smiling. She sat next to him. “So, how are things coming along?”

“Fine, I guess,” Mark replied. As he looked at the young woman, his eyes widened in shock. She was definitely much younger than he’d first thought. Much younger. In fact…

“Are you even old enough to drive?” he asked.

Delilah shrugged. “What does that matter?” she asked, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Are you planning to give me a car or something?”

Mark stared at the young girl, the disturbingly young girl who had been left with him, and wondered what he had gotten himself into. Here was a girl who looked as though she were barely into her teens, wearing horrifying skimpy clothing, pressing up against him as though there were nothing wrong.

“D-don’t touch me,” Mark stammered, leaning away from her.

“What, not into chicks?” Delilah asked.

“I just think you’re… I dunno… a little young.”

“Ace says age is just a number.”

“And you are what is known as jailbait, sweetie. You’re young enough to be my… I dunno. Maybe not daughter, but maybe kid sister.” Mark shook his head, disturbed. “What the hell are you doing in a place like this? And dressed like that? What about your parents? Or school?”

“Ran away from home,” Delilah responded, shrugging. “And I guess I said f-you to school.”

“You really shouldn’t talk like that, either,” Mark said. “You seem like a good kid who’s gotten herself involved with some bad people. Look, go back home. Get an education. Put on some damned clothes, at least! You’re too young to dress like a stripper.”

“But, Ace says--”

“**** Ace!” Mark snapped. Delilah shrunk back, looking fearful. “The last thing you need is to become another statistic. Do something with your life. There’s enough people who’ve ruined their lives living like this. Get an education and be someone. Unless you want to die young from a drug overdose, or out on the street when you’re no longer young and beautiful.”

Delilah stared at him for a few more seconds. Just then, the door shut, rather loudly, and a low voice remarked, “That was a nice speech.”

Author's Note: Hey, guys! Just wanted to let you all know about the contest being held on the fan board! It's going on this month, and everyone who participates gets a little something!


Delilah gave the speaker a nervous look and quickly rose to her feet. “I was just checking up on him,” she said loudly.

“Like you checked up on that guy last month?” the newcomer asked. “Ace doesn’t have the money to keep a stock of Plan-B, you know.”

“Shut up, Angel. Why didn’t Ace send someone else?” Delilah shot back.

“Sandra’s on vacation, Erica’s keeping someone else company, Monica’s in DC… you get the idea. I’m pretty much the only option. Now, get the hell out of here, kid. You know what I told you about leaving the guys alone. It’s bad enough Ace is fooling around with you.”

Delilah nodded and scurried out, slamming the door shut behind her. The newcomer stood before Mark, smiling apologetically. “Sorry about that,” she said. “Must have been kind of weird.”

“Understatement of the year, sweetie,” Mark responded.

For the first time, he took a good look at the newcomer. Female, but definitely closer to his age. Very pale under her caked on makeup. Huge gray eyes. Curly hair messily framing her face. A few yellowish healing bruises here and there, as well as fresher purple bruises. Also, some marks --bug bites?-- in varying stages of healing on her arms. She smiled cheerily at him and sat beside him.

“So,” she murmured, leaning against him, “anything I can do for you?”

“Damn it,” Mark snapped, backing away from her. “Do we need to go through this again? I don’t want that kind of… you know… assistance.”

Angel frowned, then said hesitantly, “Look, dude, just between you and me, Ace will be ticked off if I just leave you alone. He likes his guests to be… uh… provided for.”

“There’s a time where I would have gladly taken you up on that, but I really don’t want that kind of thing. I have enough woman problems as it is.”

“But I can’t just leave you in here alone!” Angel argued. “If I do, Ace will… he’ll…”

“He’ll what?” Mark replied. “Is he going to yell at you or something?”

Angel looked away. “Yeah, something like that,” she muttered.

Mark lightly touched a bruise on her arm. “Did he do this?” he asked, frowning.

“Look, it’s nothing!” Angel snapped, pulling her arm away from Mark. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Sweetie, you have bruises all over your arms and legs. If one of my friends came in looking like you, I’d want to have a nice, private talk with their better half, if you get me.”

“I’m clumsy. Really, it’s nothing.”

Mark frowned and gave her arms a better look. Up close, the marks that he thought were bug bites…

“And these?” he asked, touching one.

Angel glared at Mark. “Ancient history.”

“They look pretty recent to me.”

“I don’t know why the hell you care so much. You don’t know squat about me. I probably mean as much to you as… I dunno… some random chick on the street.”

“And I would be just as concerned if I saw ‘some random chick on the street’ looking like you. You’re bruised up, have track marks, and look like you’ve been missing a few meals.”

“What, do you like fixer-uppers or something?” Angel replied, rolling her eyes. “Man, you’re sick.”

“Well, one of the women I care about is kind of a fixer-upper, but that’s neither here nor there,” Mark said, shrugging. “Look, if we’re going to be stuck dealing with each other for a while, we might as well try to get along. When I leave, you don’t have to deal with me ever again. Fair deal?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Angel responded, rolling her eyes.

“Fine. Now that we’ve gotten that settled… I’m Mark. And you?”

“People around here call me Angel.”

“Is that your real name?”

“It’s real enough.”

Author's Note: Hey, guys! WCC has officially been around four years. To celebrate, in case you haven't heard, I'm doing a little contest on the fan board (posted under the "story discussion" section). It's a little silly, but everyone who participates gets a little something! So, thanks to everyone who's been reading! You're the reason I keep working on this! Much love!


“So, Angel, tell me about yourself,” Mark prompted.

Angel raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?” she asked. “You really are weird. You sure you’re not… y’know… not into women?”

“I like women fine. I just kind of have an issue with getting into bed with them when I’ve only known them a few minutes. Look, Ace wants you to keep me entertained, right? Well, talking will be a nice source of entertainment for me. You’re doing your job, no one gets mad. Get it?”

“Yeah… yeah, I guess I see where you’re coming from,” Angel responded slowly.

“So? Tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Whatever you want to talk about.”

“What’s there to say?” Angel muttered. “I have a cousin who alternately hates my guts and tolerates me, the rest of my family pretty much ignores my existence, an in-law or something who’s really getting to be a big deal…”

“Yeah, but what about you? Tell me about you.”

“Oh, let’s see,” Angel replied, putting on her ditz face. “I like kittens and long walks on the beach at sunset.”

“Be serious,” Mark sighed.

“Seriously? Fine. I… uh… I guess I like movies…”

“Yeah? What kind?”

Angel frowned a little, then replied slowly, “All sorts. Pretty much everything from Chinatown to Back to the Future to Animal House.”

“Nice.”

Encouraged a little by this, Angel continued, “I also like some foreign films. Audition really freaked me out.”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty weird movie. What other stuff do you like?”

“Well, I--” Angel began.

The door opened, and she looked up, startled. Ace Nix was standing in the doorway, frowning at her.

“A-Ace, I was just--” Angel stammered.

Ace stormed forward and grasped Angel’s arm firmly, then yanked her up into a standing position. “What the hell is going on?” he snapped. “I asked you to take care of him, not become his best friend!”

“Well, I wanted to talk,” Mark spoke up. “Really, there’s no problem here!”

“Stay out of this,” Ace snapped. To Angel, he added, “Why do you think I put up with your junkie *** instead of throwing you out on the street where you belong? You really think he gives a damn about you, really?”

“Hey, ‘he’ is standing right here!” Mark shouted. He pulled Ace’s hand off of Angel. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I actually believe in treating women like they have the sense to know what they do or don’t want to do. If she wants to sit and talk to me instead of doing whatever the hell you want her to, that’s her business.”

“Then, you’re not staying here,” Ace replied.

“What?”

“You heard me. Get your *** out. Don’t even take your stuff. I’ll send it to the hotel you decide to stay at instead.”

Mark was silent for a moment. “Fine,” he finally said. “But can I take one thing with me? Just one thing. You can send everything else along to the hotel when I call and let you know I’ve arrived. But there’s one thing I want to take with me. You know, to make sure nothing happens to it. Easily damaged goods. Don‘t want it damaged in transit.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Ace replied.

“You sure?”

“Yes, damn it, now take what you’re taking and get the hell out of here!”

“Well, then, if you’re okay with it,” Mark responded, shrugging. He turned to Angel and said, “Come on. Let’s go find you a place to stay where you don’t have to deal with this jerk.” With that, he turned and started to walk out. After a second of hesitation, Angel began to follow him.

“What? What the hell? That’s not what we agreed to!” Ace yelled after him.

“Yes, it was,” Mark replied calmly. “You said I could take one thing with me. I’m taking this nice young lady with me. I figure she’d be better off anywhere that’s not here.”

“You’re so full of it,” Ace scowled. “Think you’re going to get something special just for being the gallant knight in shining armor, rescuing the damsel in distress?”

“No. But I would like to think that I’m occasionally capable of at least being a better person than you are.”

“You’re not taking her.”

“You can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to. If she wants to leave with me, she can.”

They both turned to Angel. After a few moments of collecting her thoughts, she finally said, “…I’m going with Mark. I might even get into rehab, clean myself up. I’m not going to spend my life getting hit and used.”

Ace stared at her, shocked. “Fine! Go with him! But I’m not taking you back! Just wait, once he get sick of dealing with your bull****, he’ll be begging me to take you back.”

Angel ignored him. “So,” she said to Mark, “do we have to stand here listening to him, or can we go somewhere else? I could go for a bite to eat, personally.”

Author's Note: Hey, guys, sorry for the lack of updates. I've been getting ready for classes to start back up, plus I've been preparing to begin my counseling practicum. So, I won't have as much time to write as before, but I will continue to update at least once per month!


Angel stared in shock at the table in the diner. “I did it,” she muttered. “I… I actually did it. I can’t believe…” She looked up at Mark. “I just… just walked away from Ace… with some strange guy I know nothing about.”

Mark smiled a little. “Calm down. You did the right thing. After we eat, I’ll drop you off with your family, or whoever--”

“--Yeah, about that,” Angel blurted out, embarrassed. “My family’s pretty much disowned me. Cousins and all. I did some really stupid stuff when I was younger, and… uh… well, they decided they couldn’t trust me anymore.”

“So, you don’t have anyone? At all?”

“Correct. So, you can just drop me off anywhere. I’ll go track down a shelter and plan my next move.”

“Yeah, I could do that, but anything could happen to you,” Mark responded.

“I’ve done it before.”

“Doesn’t mean something bad won’t happen this time around. Look, I’ll rent a room for you while I’m in town, and… I dunno… maybe when I leave, I can bring you along. You can crash at my place while you look for a job and save up for a cheap apartment.”

“Sounds sketchy.”

“Won’t lay a hand on you, promise. If you want, I’ll have one of my friends take you in. I have a few people who owe me.”

“Like who?”

“My friend Tacita. She’s kind of a fixer-upper, but she’s okay enough. She’ll probably let you stay at her place for a while, if I ask nicely.”

“Friend, huh?” Angel asked, smirking a little.

“It’s complicated. Point is, you can stay with her, if you don’t feel comfortable staying with me.”

“That’s okay, I guess.”

__________________________________________

“Thanks, Tacita,” Mark said as he hung up the phone. He grinned and gave Angel a thumbs-up. “It looks like it’ll work. She barely spends any time at her place, so she won’t mind much. Just…” Here, Mark frowned, forehead furrowed slightly. “Just don’t touch her alcohol without her permission.”

“Bit of a lush, is she?” Angel asked.

“Not so much that. Just… I think that’s how she copes with most stuff. The product of getting everything she wanted growing up, except attention from her parents. Except, you know, when she screwed up. I guess it’s gotten to the point where if things aren’t going her way or she’s stressed, rather than dealing with it, she reaches for the nearest bottle.”

“You sound concerned. Are you sure she’s not…”

“Not what?” Mark snapped.

Angel flinched a little. “Not… I don’t know… someone special?”

“She’s a friend, like I told you” Mark insisted.

“You just sounded really worried about her. It’s okay to be. It’s fine to be concerned about friends. She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

“Not really,” Mark muttered to himself.

“What was that?” Angel asked.

“I’ve kind of been a jerk lately. Let’s just say I’m not the best person in the world.”

“I doubt you’re the worst person, though.”

“That’s nice, but for all you know, I’m some serial killer.”

Angel shrugged. “And I’m a drain on society. You killing me would probably be for the greater good. I figure you can’t be much worse than the kind of stuff I was dealing with from Ace.”

“Maybe,” Mark murmured.

Author's Note: This is kind of a mini-update. Since I have some time off this weekend, I will try to write a lengthier update and post it later in the week.

Andi shifted in her sleep, and Mark opened his eyes. “You okay?” he whispered. No response came. “Andi? Taste of Honey? Angel?” No response.

Mark frowned. “That was a stupid nickname I gave you,” he muttered. “Just happened to be listening to The Beatles at the time, after seeing that movie Almost Famous, and I figured I’d call you by a Beatles song. You didn’t give a damn what I called you, did you?”

No response.



“You remember the rehab? All that fun stuff? All those times I stayed up with you, when you were going through withdrawal? And even then… even then, I didn’t give up on you. You could have said you weren’t going to go through rehab. You could have left, then. You could have left years ago. So, why didn’t you?”

No response.

“Hey,” Mark said softly. “You’re beautiful when you sleep. But… you know… it’s getting kind of old. So… please… wake up.”

No response.


Mark gently shook Andi. Her eyes did not open.

“Oh, crap,” he whispered. He stumbled out of the bed and to his feet. “Oh, damn…” Running awkwardly to the door, he yelled, “Doc! Get over here, now! I don’t know if Taste of Honey is breathing!”

“Oh, they are so cute,” a woman squealed.

“What are their names again?” another asked, peering at the pictures.

“Amanda and Michael,” Delilah responded, grinning proudly. “Mikey has his dad’s eyes.”

“And Amanda is such an adorable little girl!”

Delilah looked over at Ophelia, who was walking past. “Ms. Foley-Cloud?” she called out. “Hey, you want to see the new pictures of my kids?”

Ophelia smiled politely and quickly shook her head. “Later,” she responded, not stopping or slowing her step. “Have urgent business to attend to.”

The designers watched Ophelia hurry off to her office. After she was out of hearing range, one of them remarked, “She’s been so irritable lately.”

“Seriously,” one of her peers agreed. “If I didn’t know she was… well, y’know… I’d think maybe she was pregnant.”

“PMS, maybe?” another suggested, smirking.

Delilah frowned. “Hey, that’s not cool,” she said, shaking her head. “She’s probably just stressed or has a lot on her mind. It can’t be easy being responsible for so much.”


Ophelia smiled wearily at her younger brother and his girlfriend. “Hey, Nathaniel. Emma, how are things?”

“Things are great,” Emma replied, beaming.

Ophelia sighed and eased herself into her seat. “So, what’s going on?” she asked. “Nathaniel, you said you had big news for me.”


Nathaniel squeezed Emma’s hand and smiled affectionately at her. Emma took a deep breath and announced, “I’m pregnant. About three months along.”

“We wanted to wait until we were sure,” Nathaniel added.

“Mom’s totally peeved at me. She was ticked enough when Tiff got knocked up and had to marry AJ. Guess she didn’t expect her golden child to go this way,” Emma laughed. “Sucks for Mom.”

“Meanwhile, our mom is totally excited to have her first grandchild,” Nathaniel said, grinning.


Ophelia smiled and shifted awkwardly. “Well… congratulations,” she stammered out. She rose and added, “Excuse me a moment.”

“Sure,” Nathaniel responded.

Ophelia hurried out of the office and down the hall to the restroom. She hurried into the nearest available stall and locked the door behind her. She sank down onto the toilet, lowered her head into her hands, and began to sob.

“I just can’t believe it,” Ophelia said, for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“I know,” Emily replied, patting Ophelia’s back. “It’s kind of a shock.” She reached over to the coffee table, where a teapot and several cups were. “Maybe some tea will help?”

“Tea?” Ophelia scoffed. “Do you really think tea will help with something like this? I can’t believe this. It’s… it’s just not fair!”

“What’s not fair about it?” Emily asked, pouring some tea for herself.

Ophelia sighed and shook her head. “You just don’t get it, Em. It’s like everyone else is having kids and all, even my little brother, and I just feel left out of it.”

“I thought you said Tacita was finally doing the paperwork to let you adopt Lisa,” Emily responded, genuinely confused.

“She is. But… I don’t know. It’s just not the same as having your own kid, you know?”


“Lia, you have a life most people can only dream of. You have a partner who absolutely adores you, the job of your dreams, enough money to do whatever you want, and a great adopted daughter. Isn’t that enough?”

“Look,” Ophelia snapped, “Emily, not everyone can be satisfied with the life of a workaholic. Some people actually want to do something with their lives.”

Emily set her teacup down, and in as calm a tone as possible, responded, “So, heading a highly successful feminist magazine and publishing several well-received books doesn’t count for anything, unless there’s a biological kid or two to go along with it?”

“I’m just saying, normal people want to have a family!”

“I do have a family,” Emily responded. “I have Louie, and we have our parents and siblings and in-laws and nieces.”


“But, don’t you want kids? Do you really want to look back at your life someday and feel like you should have had one? Don’t your parents want more grandkids?” Emily shook her head. Ophelia sighed exasperatedly. “There must be something wrong with you. You‘re freaking selfish.”

“Bingo,” Emily muttered.

“What was that?”

“All the crap people tell me, trying to convince me that Louie and I should have kids. Could pretty much put them onto a bingo card and mark off when someone uses one of those. Never thought I’d see the day when you’d pull something like that on me.”

“I’m just saying, it’s normal to want kids!”

“And I’m saying that if that’s the case, then I’m fine being abnormal,” Emily snapped. “I have a great life. A fulfilling life. I actually appreciate what I have, instead of just whining about wanting more and more. Look at you. You wanted a fashion company, but you’re training Nathaniel to replace you. You wanted to adopt Lisa for God knows how long, and now even that’s not enough. If anyone’s selfish, Ophelia, it’s you.” Emily rose to her feet. “I think you should go home.”

“Why? Why the hell should I go home?”

“You want to know why?”

“Yeah, why?”

Emily stepped closer until she was nearly nose to nose with Ophelia. “Why? Because you’re being a goddamned b*tch, and I’m not going to take any crap from someone who’s supposed to be my best friend! Now, get out!”

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to put this up, but I wanted to make sure I had it just so, since there were a few things that I really wanted to be sure were done right. Enjoy-- references to "Dreamfall: The Longest Journey" and "Doctor Who" are in this update!


Ophelia slammed her bedroom door and flopped across her bed, a look of sullen displeasure on her face. She felt, admittedly, more like one of those overly emotional adolescents, rather than the woman she had grown into.

“But still!” she muttered to herself angrily. “But still... I can't believe she said that to me!”

She had gone home, hoping that Cy would be around; at least Cy would empathize and acknowledge that things were difficult. Cy wasn't home; Ophelia had no idea where she was. Probably some important meeting or something. But Emily-- she had just made everything about herself, hadn't she?

“Right? Right.” she muttered to herself, sitting up. She walked over to her dresser and, after some rummaging, pulled a thick volume from beneath a pile of old sweaters. She glared at the book, her fingernails digging into the cover.

“It's not fair. Why the hell did I have to be the one to do this?” Ophelia demanded, clenching her hands still more tightly. “I didn't have any choice in the matter! I was forced! So, why the hell do I have to devote my whole life to this? Why can't I live the kind of life I want? Just because I was supposed to die in some alternate universe?”

She angrily hurled the book against the wall. “You... you heinous witch!” she screamed. “You weren't thinking at all, were you? You just were concerned about own f***ing happiness, weren't you? You used me!”


Ophelia's eyes fell upon a small package on a nearby tabletop. Chamomile mints, useful for relaxation. Also, most people in Ophelia's family more or less stoned from consuming chamomile. In her adolescent years, Ophelia had found the mints to be most useful for getting to sleep when she was stressed.

“This is definitely a three-mint experience,” Ophelia said aloud to herself, tugging the package open. She shook out three chamomile mints and popped them into her mouth. She curled up in her bed, letting the mints dissolve into her mouth...


Ophelia looked around, astonished. There was nothing but a gray sky and a broad expanse of whiteness-- snow-- as far as she could see. In the near distance, there was a shack, resembling a clumsily-built dollhouse. Ophelia looked down at herself; she was wearing nothing but white undergarments.

“Goddamn it,” Ophelia muttered. “I swear, if some pale weirdo shows up, telling me to save someone...”

“What was that about telling you to save someone?” a familiar voice asked.

“You,” Ophelia whispered. She turned slowly to face Gabrielle Gibson. Gabby. The woman who gave her the mission of ensuring the fate of the world so many years ago.

“Hello, sweetie,” Gabby greeted her, smiling cheerily. She indicated their surroundings. “What do you think? Just a bit of an experiment. Something to waste time here.”

“Kind of bland... reminds me of a certain video game. And where the hell are we? I figured this was another weird dream,” Ophelia responded.

“Yeah, I wanted to start small,” Gabby responded. “That was a pretty fun game, by the way.” She held her hand out, and a small tuft of flowers and green grass emerged from a nearby pile of snow. “And we are... well... kind of in a place between the living world and the world of the dead.”

“But you're dead!”

“Technically, yes. And technically, no. In your world, I am currently a tiny little egg inside my mother's body, just maturing and waiting. So, I'm not really one thing nor another right now.”

“You know,” Ophelia said irritably, following Gabby as she wandered about, making flowers erupt from the earth, “I am really peeved at you right now.”

“Are you, now?” Gabby responded, unconcerned. “Careful. Step to one side.” Ophelia just barely managed to sidestep a tree as it emerged from the earth. Gabby snapped her fingers, and said, “That might be a bit better.”

Ophelia looked down at herself. At least now, she was dressed. “You used me! You didn't give me any choice about keeping an eye on Charise. I was too young to understand the implications, when I was told to do this. And now, what? Here I am, with a life I'm unhappy with. I can't even have kids!”

“Great Solunar,” Gabby muttered, rolling her eyes. “If I would have gone with my second choice, I wouldn't have had to hear this. Most I'd have to hear is that her coworkers don't like her life choices.” Turning to Ophelia, she added, “And who said anything about you not having kids? Oh, spoiler!”

'Spoiler'?” Ophelia repeated, making a face. “Who the hell do you think you are, River Song?”

“Got that a bit backwards,” Gabby responded, pointing to the shack. It became a modest country cottage.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I don't think I'm her. She's supposed to be me.”

“What?”

“My old boss and I, when were testing out Project Wells, we made a few accidental stops. Long story short, we ended up pretty much being responsible for a whole ton of Doctor Who episodes. For the record, the library thing... that was my boss's idea. Some weird family joke or something, I think.”

Ophelia stared at Gabby silently.

“Yeah, I know, kind of weird. Sorry, kiddo,” Gabby apologized, making some rose bushes appear.

“So, what now?” Ophelia asked. “Am I going to have kids?”

“I don't know. There are too many possible time lines. I do know that there are some universes in which I do not exist, in which I was never born. I have also seen times in which my mother married another man. Instead of existing as I do, I am so pale... with such dark hair... and so serious.” Gabby sighed. “Ophelia, I went into this mission, knowing full-well that I might prevent myself from existing. That did not matter to me. What mattered was the happiness of Charise, my grandmother. I did not want her to suffer at the hands of that terrible man. You have done a wonderful job thus far, caring for her well-being.”

“You've been visiting Artemis, your mom, haven't you?” Ophelia asked. “She mentioned that she had seen you in some of her dreams.”

“I figured that just in case I'm not born, it would still be nice to meet Mom. She's beautiful, Lia. You and Charise are doing well with her. She's going to really grow up to be a great person.” Gabby smiled, tears in her eyes. “At this point, there is a fifty-percent chance that I will not exist. Too many factors have changed. The incident in which my parents got together will never happen. There will be more players on the field, so to speak. And besides...” Gabby took a deep breath. “Besides... do you know the chances of that exact sperm and exact egg meeting to create 'me' as I am now? Extremely unlikely. So, even if 'I' do exist in this time line, even if 'I' am born... do you really think it will still be me?” Gabby shook her head. “And you call me selfish. If anyone is selfish, it's you. Selfish and shortsighted.”

“What's your problem?” Ophelia snapped.

“My problem is, you are assuming that your life is so limited. You are alive. You would not be, without my interference.”

“So, because you saved my life, you own it?”

“Not at all. I'm just saying that you have more possibilities, more chances at happiness, than you realize. You are just limiting yourself so much. My grandmother is happy. As far as I'm concerned, your job is finished. So, go, live a satisfying life,” Gabby responded, surveying her work. Flowers and trees everywhere, and the sky was a bright blue. She nodded with satisfaction. “And, hey, worst-case scenario, I can just hang around here.” Gabby turned to Ophelia and said, “And just so you know, there is another with your same mission. But she is less consciously aware of it; she just knows that she has to act to preserve the well-being of her family.”

“But... who?”

Gabby smiled and shook her head. “Spoiler.”

Ophelia scoffed. “Spoiler,” she repeated mockingly. “Look, all that crap might have worked if you were talking to Emily. Or, you know, someone who gave a damn. But you're not. You're talking to someone who you basically tricked into doing your dirty work. So you might not be born in this time line. Oh, boo hoo.” Ophelia rolled her eyes. “I wasn't even supposed to be born. My mom had all kinds of health problems when she was growing up. She got knocked up not long after Charise's mom did, and they figured I wouldn't make it. Or, you know, that it was a fluke. I've basically lived my whole life knowing that I somehow beat the odds and exist. So, don't talk to me about that crap. You existed and were wanted, and, hey, you got things to go the way you wanted. Better place for Charise and all. Look, she and S even got married. No apocalypse, no evil Diggory line ruling the country. Isn't that enough for you?”

Gabby swallowed hard. She took a deep breath, then said, “But, you don't understand. If my mother--”

“--Artemis is doing fine, Gabby,” Ophelia interrupted, scowling. “Better than fine. I bet she'd do even better if you stopped bothering her in her dreams. I'm surprised Charise hasn't figured anything out yet. You're lucky your grandma is as dumb as a box of rocks, in some ways. How long do you think it'll take before Charise, say, takes out her old yearbook, and little Missy points to your picture and says, 'That's the lady from my dreams' or some crap like that?”

“Charise will chalk it up to coincidence,” Gabby responded.

“Coincidence that her kid is dreaming about some woman she's never seen again. A woman who probably said something about being related?” Ophelia made a face. “Get real, Gabby. All it would take is for her to compare pictures of you with pictures of her, our grandma, and Jade... and then, I bet she'd think something was up. Maybe not that you're her granddaughter-- no one in their right mind would immediately jump to that conclusion-- but I bet she'll start wondering.”

“Let her wonder,” Gabby blurted out. “That's not important right now. It's Artemis. She's going to have a bit more of a choice in this time line than in mine. I couldn't have foreseen this.”

“So, she gets a few more choices,” Ophelia responded. “Good. Better than being forced to do someone else's bidding.”

“But, if they...” Gabby stammered out. “They... look, Ophelia, they cannot be together.”

“Who?” Ophelia asked impatiently.

“I can't say.”

“Spoilers?” Ophelia asked mockingly.

“Yes. And unfortunately, I suspect that if you tried to prevent it, you might actually make it happen.”

“Do you really think I would screw it up? I did your bidding pretty damned well, all things considered!”

“Ophelia, you don't understand. The future rests in the hands of several major family lines, either by blood or marriage: Marlow, Gibson, Diggory, Paxton, Verona, Royale, Desjardin, Desidiro, Foley... don't you get it?”

“But most of the people you listed were dead before they could impact your time line,” Ophelia blurted out.

“Not everyone in their families,” Gabby responded, smirking slightly. “Just because one or two people died before reproducing-- and I know some people did manage to have a kid before dying-- doesn't mean the lines died out.”

Ophelia turned away from Gabby. “I'm not doing it. I'm not helping you anymore,” Ophelia said calmly. “I don't know what you expect of me, but I'm tired of being the kind of person you want me to be. I've been feeling... I don't know... numb. It's hard to feel enthusiastic about your life when you're not living it for yourself.”

Gabby rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she snapped. “I see that you're beyond me, anyway. Do whatever you want. Not like it matters, anyway. Not to you.” She waved her hands, as if casting a spell or blessing Ophelia. “I give you my blessing. I hope you get exactly the life you want. Hell, double blessings upon you. May you never live to regret your choice.”

Hey, guys! Sorry it took so long for me to update. Things have been a bit rough here. For a more detailed explanation, see this letter to my readers.


Ophelia opened her eyes, then frowned. What a weird dream, she thought. If it had been a dream... She shook her head. No, it was nonsense. Of course it was a dream.

Rising from her bed, Ophelia sighed. She knew what she had to do; she was going to act for herself.



“Why won't you believe us?” the curly-haired guy snapped.

“It just seems a little far-fetched,” AJ responded.

“But it's the truth,” the dark-haired young woman spoke up. “He didn't lay a finger on me. These stupid women did!”

“These women beat you so hard, you lost consciousness?” AJ asked, eyebrow raised.

“It's the truth,” the woman insisted. “If Mark here hadn't been there to stop it, who knows what would have happened.”

“When he brought you here, you were unconscious.”

“The band doctor initially said she was fine,” the curly-haired guy replied. “She didn't lose conscious until after.”

“I still don't--” AJ began.

A nurse rapped on the door. AJ opened it and peered out at her.


“Dr. Desjardin,” the nurse said, “I know you're busy, but there's a call for you.”

“Can't it wait? Is it important?” AJ responded.

“It's from... you know... her. Ms. Foley-Cloud. You told me to put her through immediately if something came up.”

AJ nodded. “Tell her I'll get back to her in a couple of minute.”

“Yes, doctor. Oh, and there's someone else in the waiting room, wanting to see you.”

“Yeah?”

“A woman. Red hair... kind of tall. Looks kind of like that model... anyway, she said she wants to talk to you about something you two had discussed.”

“That's fine. Tell Jeff I'll need to speak with him. I think I know what they want to discuss with me.”

“Yes, sir,” the nurse replied.

AJ shut the door, then turned back to the couple in the room. Here was a woman, covered with bruises and cuts, and she was insisting that the man beside her had not laid a finger on her. How many more of these couples did he have to see? It was the same thing, over and over. Enough to make him sick.

Life could be a real pain sometimes.

“I can't believe it,” Emily gasped, her eyes wide with astonishment. “It's a really big change.”

“Does... does it look bad?” Valo asked, peering nervously at her reflection.

“No way!” Emily responded. “You look great!”

“It's like Em said... it's a big change,” Cy added. “I guess because as long as she's known you... actually, for as long as I've known you... you've had the same hair and glasses and all.”

“It was time for a change,” Valo replied. She toyed with her hair briefly before turning to Cy. “Are you sure the color looks okay? Maybe I shouldn't have gone with red. I'm going to look like one of those old ladies who's trying to be all hip and fashionable, but just looks ridiculous.”

“Relax, Valo,” Cy soothed her, patting her shoulder. “You look great.”

“It makes you look younger,” Emily blurted out. Seeing Valo's face, Emily stammered out, “N-not that you looked old before, but... well, you know...”


“You look more your proper age now, is what she means,” Cy spoke up. “You were cute before, no question, but you dressed kind of... you know... old for your age.”

“Yeah, I got that a lot when I was younger. Comes from being one of the youngest people in your academic program and wanting to be taken seriously by clients,” Valo responded. “Anyway, I figured I needed new glasses. A haircut and dye was just lagniappe.”

Cy smiled slightly and asked, “Are you sure the change was just for the fun of it? Or is there another reason you're so anxious to look nice?”

Valo laughed, but it had a nervous quality to it. “What do you mean, Cy?”

Cy grinned and pulled an invitation out of her own pocket. “A little get-together with some of the people we knew back in the day. There must be someone you're eager to impress.”

“No way,” Valo protested. “I just... you know... felt like it was time to update my look. Why would I want to impress anyone there, especially since these people already know me?”

“Then you didn't hear? One of your old friends is back in town,” Cy responded.

“Wait, what? Who?” Valo asked, genuinely surprised.

“You'll see. Come on, Emily. We still need to go get the stuff for dinner,” Cy said. Emily nodded and followed closely.


As soon as they were out of earshot, Emily asked, “What was that about?”

Cy grinned and replied, “What are you doing Friday night?”

“Not much. Louie's out on assignment, so I was going to stay in and maybe catch up on my reading.”

“If you want to see something really surprising or amusing, come to that get-together with me,” Cy told her. “You won't believe what will happen.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“You don't know Valo as well as I do. I knew her back in the day, before she got stuffy and conservative. She used to be a lot of fun, you know.”


“Yeah? How much fun are we talking about?”

“Would you believe she pretty much had her pick of guys at one point? She gave all that up after she got together with Grant.”

“Seriously? Valo?! Looking like she does? Or... you know... did...”

“I guess it's the whole gamer geek meets tomboy-next-door thing she had going on back then. When most of the people you hang around with are geeky guys, they fall hard for that kind of thing. A few, more than others.”

“So, what's that got to do with this?” Emily asked.

“You know the saying, 'Behind every successful man is a brilliant woman'? What if I told you that at one point, Valo played that part to someone who was kind of a big deal on campus, back in the day? We're talking more or less being the university equivalent of... I don't know... the First Lady or something.”

“And?”

“I have it on good authority that a certain guy will be at that get-together. Worst-case scenario, they'll have one of the most epic fights of all time.”

“And best-case scenario?”

Cy smirked. “You'll see. I don't want to spoil the fun for you.”

Cy took a long, slow sip of her drink and looked around. Men and women filled the room, talking and drinking. She nodded to herself. This was going to be interesting.

“Well?” Emily whispered, nudging Cy.

“Well, what?” Cy responded.

“Nothing’s happening. I thought you said something funny would happen.”

“It will. Keep your pants on,” Cy replied. “Get a drink or a snack or something. This might take a while. But I know it’s going to happen. Just be patient, okay? Trust me, this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. You are going to see a side of Valo that you never knew existed.”

“I’m not sure I want to know now,” Emily muttered. So far, the most interesting thing that had happened, with regard to Valo, was seeing her dressed up and talking about video games with a group of men. As Emily did not know very much about video games, most of the conversation that she had overheard sounded like another language.


Cy’s eyes widened, and she smirked slightly. Gently elbowing Emily, she nodded in the direction of a reasonably attractive man, who had just entered the room. “Here we go,” she whispered to Emily. “Just watch.”

The man began to circulate around the room, chatting with various people. It did not take Valo long to notice him, although she quickly acted as though she did not see him. She turned her back to him and laughed loudly at a remark one of her companions made.

“Act one,” Cy said, “in which she pretends she doesn’t care about him.”

“Huh?” Emily responded.

“Keep watching.”


The man looked in the direction of Valo, smiled slightly, and began to walk in her direction. He paused to speak to a few people, but kept glancing in her direction. Valo either did not notice him approaching, or continued to feign disinterest.

“Act two,” Cy quietly announced, “in which he pretends he doesn’t care about her, but he goes right for her.”


Valo continued to talk to her group of friends, laughing loudly. The man stepped up behind her and said, as a way of greeting, “Even with red hair, I’d recognize that voice and gorgeous figure anywhere. How’s it been, Jessie girl?”

Valo turned slowly, a pleased smile upon her face. “And there’s only one person who’d know he could get away with calling me that without getting his butt kicked. How’s life been treating you, Guapo guy?”


“Act three,” Cy quietly intoned, “in which it all plays out the way she planned it. She’ll eat him alive.”

Emily’s eyes widened in horror. “We have to stop them!” she gasped.

“Stop them? You have to be kidding,” Cy responded, grinning. “The fun’s about to happen.”

I just LOVE this story!