The Elven Heritage Legacy

Bad Company

Chapter 11

The problem with Homeroom was that it was thirty minutes of unrelieved, hair-tearing boredom. Thirty minutes she could have spent doing something much more important than being stuffed in a classroom with a bunch of people who would rather be elsewhere as well. Thirty minutes of the girls next to her gossiping about a television show that Aranel didn’t watch, or a party that Aranel hadn’t been invited to.

It might not have been nearly so bad if Aranel had managed to be put in a homeroom with her friends, but she had a completely different schedule than all of them.

More Homeroom

Of course, if she were honest with herself, she had to admit that her friends talked about mostly the same sorts of things as the girls in homeroom. Television, movie and music stars, the current Diva or Mr. Big, and parties at the rich end of downtown that Aranel’s parents would never have let her go to even if she had been invited. Or just plain gossiping about things they had no real idea about.

Gossipy girls

“Yeah, Mr. Wong is totally on bubbles,” said one of the vaucous girls sitting next to Aranel. “Did you see how spaced out he was this morning?”

No he isn’t, stupid, Aranel thought irritably, closing her eyes, If you’d actually listened to the sub last week you’d know that he had surgery on his knee. The pill bottles in his desk are painkillers.

“Oooh, wait until the principal finds out,” said the other girl, and Aranel gritted her teeth and rolled her eyes as the conversation turned to something else. But as stupid as she thought the conversation was, she could imagine sitting next to Nymea and Amy and listening to it. It seemed like something that one of them would have heard.

Band

Still, she reminded herself as the bell rang and she headed towards Band, you had to be polite and at least pretend to listen to people who talked about the dullest subjects if you wanted them to like you. And she did want people to like her, and plenty of people did. At least, a lot of people wanted to talk to her.

Band, at least, was forty-five minutes of doing something entertaining, even when someone was out of key and they had to do it all over again.

After band, everyone headed for lunch and Aranel took the opportunity to meet with her friends at the lockers. But they were already engaged in another boring discussion, this one about some movie star who was in some magazine because they’d done something stupid. Or maybe it was about some classmate whose parents had caught them doing something stupid. Aranel couldn’t have cared less, and just blocked most of the conversation out as she went through her locker to put away her books.

But try as she might, she couldn’t block out everything. The conversation made an abrupt stop, and Aranel could tell that the attention of her friends had been diverted. Someone that they wanted to talk about was coming down the hall.

“Look at those losers,” came the hissing whisper. Despite her better judgment, Ara turned from her locker to look.

It was the two girls that had been dubbed by Nymea’s group of friends during the first two weeks as the “Bluewater Nerds.” Both wore glasses, and one had brown dreadlocks that reached past her shoulders. She was also wearing very unusual makeup – her eyeliner extended from the outer corner of her left eye in a series of spirals, which must have been difficult to draw while staring into a mirror without her glasses.

“So ugly,” Amy continued, not even bothering to whisper. “Look at their saggy socks! And those five-cent barrettes are hideous. How can anyone as poor as that Ramirez girl afford to come to private school?”

Debbie nodded, like she always did when she didn’t have much to say.If Aranel had been at all interested in psychology, she might have thought it ironic

that Nymea, who would never admit to the other girls that she wasn’t rich, decided to enter the conversation then. As it was, she merely gritted her teeth as her best friend started to criticize the retreating pair loud enough for the whole hall to hear.

Nymea: Angry Sneer

“Well, it’s definitely not because she’s smart or talented,” Nymea replied in a

voice that seemed casual at first. “I heard that she got the Landgrabb scholarship

for her year because the judges felt sorry for her.”

Debbie giggled. “One look at her in whatever she wears outside of school

would do that to anyone.”

Aranel noticed that the look on Nymea’s face got even sourer after that.

“Well, that’s what they say,” she replied, in a confidential voice that, of course, could be

heard across the hallway, where the other two girls had stopped at their lockers, “Of course, I

heard differently.” All the assorted girls were listening closely now. They always listened to

whatever Nymea said. Aranel usually found it annoying that they were willing to listen to

Nymea, but not her. Today, however, she just felt irritable and a little queasy. Whatever was

coming next wasn’t going to be good, not after the other girls had said all those things that

would set off Nymea.

“What did you hear?”

Nymea shrugged, as if she didn’t particularly care about what she was about to say. That was the key to her manipulation – to act like she was above everything and didn’t care. Aranel didn’t have that kind of control over her temper. “I heard it was favoritism,” she replied as they moved away from Aranel’s locker towards whoever’s locker was next on their route to lunch. “Because her mother has a rather… special relationship with Landgrabb himself.”

This last line, delivered precisely as the group passed behind the two Bluewater girls, caused the rest of Nymea’s entourage to shriek with laughter. Every person in the hallway who had successfully ignored them so far turned to look, and there in the middle of all of it was Tessa, with her eyes wide and everyone staring at her. She suddenly looked so small and young that Aranel was forcibly reminded that she was a freshman, the same age as Achenar and the twins. Tears filled her eyes – she dropped her books and ran down the hall towards the girls’ bathroom. Her companion just looked at the five of them in shock that was quickly shading towards anger, but Nymea, having won the last round, wasn’t about to stop.

“Hello, Melody,” she said sweetly. Someone behind her muttered “stage freak,” but she pretended not to hear. “Aren’t you a Landgrabb scholarship student too?”

“Go to hell, bitches,” Melody finally spat, slamming her locker and gathering Tessa’s books before following her younger friend into the bathroom. The girls surrounding Nymea laughed all the harder as they headed towards the cafeteria.

Aranel stopped walking. It took the other girls at least ten feet before they realized that she wasn’t following, and they all seemed somewhat surprised.

“Are you coming, Ara?” Nymea finally asked, half turning around.“That was a cruel, horrible lie and you know it.” Aranel replied, impressed

with how reasonable her voice sounded. There was no need to yell – half the hallway was still listening, anyhow.

Nymea just shrugged. “You know what they say about eavesdroppers not liking what they hear,” she replied. “Now are you coming to lunch or not?”

“Not,” Aranel replied, turning around and walking back the way that she had come. Somehow, she doubted that Nymea would ever have the decency to even pretend to be sorry.

Aranel had nearly made it to the library when she realized that her hands were still clenched into fists.

Punching someone in school was probably a bad idea.Punching one of her friends was also probably a bad idea, but she had

never wanted to more.

It was one thing, she decided, when they made fun of her. It wasn’t as if that mattered: they usually meant well, if they meant anything at all. Or at least, she could pretend they did. After all, they were her friends. It was just teasing. She teased Achenar all the time, and he just laughed back at her.

But, after what she had just seen, she could no longer deny that Amy and Nymea, and even Debbie, were cruel to anyone who wasn’t their friend. She felt hollow and somewhat defeated at the realization that her friends had thought it was funny to make Tessa cry.

If that was what her friends were like, what did that make her?The library was quiet, at least. She didn’t think she could stand to go to lunch

anymore, with all those people. All those people who her friends thought of as nothing more than momentary amusements. All the other students who weren’t as rich as Sharlene, as pretty as Debbie, or as well-connected as Amy.

Everyone who her friends despised.

She turned the corner and headed for the lounge area of the library, which seemed to be empty. The librarian could see most of it from her desk, but wasn’t in the habit of chasing people out during lunch. At least here she could be alone and not have to deal with other people.

She flopped down on the green sofa, crossed her legs and sighed. Short of punching Amy and Nymea, there wasn’t much she could do which would make the writhing discomfort in her gut subside. And punching someone would only feel good until she got suspended.

It just felt wrong. There was a line somewhere, and her friends had crossed it, leaving her behind.

And Nymea was the one with all those nice points. People were always talking about how sweet and polite she was, and Aranel knew that people thought of her as abrupt and tactless in comparison.

But the people who praised Nymea’s behavior were always adults. Never anyone who had ever had to deal with her as an equal, and certainly never anyone who she had looked down on.

“Troubles?”Aranel turned to glare at the brown-haired boy who had interrupted her thoughts.

He closed his novel and balanced it on one hand.“None of your business.”He shrugged. “I figure that both of us are hiding in the library for a reason.”“I am not hiding.”“And it’s perfectly fine if you don’t want to talk about it.”Aranel snorted. “Fine. If you really must know, I am a horrible, grouchy person

who would rather that you butt out and stop pretending to be sympathetic.”

“All right,” he said, and got up to put his book away and leave. “Like I said, don’t talk about it if you don’t want to. Everybody’s got enough problems without everyone feeling like they have to share theirs.”

“Like you’d know anything about that,” she scoffed. “Anyhow, you’re the one who asked.”

“Actually, you’d be surprised,” he said. “There’s a lot of people around here who take anything they don’t like about themselves and just project it onto other people.”

“What are you, some sort of philosopher?” Aranel grumbled, “I didn’t come in here to be psychoanalyzed.” She didn’t look at him, but she was less irritated than she had been a few moments ago.

“Philosophers don’t psychoanalyze people. Psychiatrists do.’“Then pick one and stick with it.”

“I challenge anyone to spend their lunch hours hiding in the nonfiction section and not start thinking philosophically.”

“I can just spend the hour thinking about people who piss me off, thanks,” Aranel replied. “But if you’re so eager to talk, why are you here?”

“I am a victim of high-school stereotypes,” he confessed gravely. She turned her head to raise an eyebrow at him. “All right. What happened was, some guys decided they didn’t like me. Words were said. There’s five of them and one of me, so I decided that in the long run, it wouldn’t matter if I spent lunch in the library on Tuesday as well as Monday and last Friday.”

“So you’ve been having lunch in the library since last week?”“Since the beginning of this month, actually.”Aranel just stared at him. “You have a problem,” she said.“I already knew that.”“Dude. Whoever it is, they can’t be that bad. Hiding from them’s just dragging it out. Tell

them not to mess with you and just leave it at that.”“That’s not really going to help.”“Look, it’s simple,” Aranel told him, “Walk up to their leader, tell him to quit fucking with

you, and walk away.”

The boy winced. “That’s not going to end well. It’s a really bad choice of words for this situation.”

“Okay, you don’t have to say it in those exact words,” Aranel replied, “Just let him know you mean it and that none of them can make you do anything, and you’ll be fine. But when you’re hiding in the library, they know you’re scared. So they’re not going to stop.”

“I’m not certain it’s that simple.”

“Hey, you’re the one who pulled out all the psychology,” Aranel reminded him, “Don’t be so surprised if it gets used against you later.”

“I thought we agreed that it was philosophy.”“Whatever.” But despite herself, Aranel was grinning. It was so long since

she’d been able to have a proper conversation with someone at school, without it degenerating into some drawn-out critique of whatever the other person thought was lame.

“Okay, enough about everyone’s problems,” she said, “What I really want to know is, can you have an intelligent discussion about Llamas?”

“Probably. But why Llamas?”“Because the Llama party is only the weirdest political party ever!”“Really? Because I thought it was a frat party.”“They probably formed their campaign platform at a frat party. Promises

like that are only made when someone is drunk.”

“I can’t tell if you like them or hate them.”“Oh, I love them! If they keep acting like that, no one will ever be able to take the Status

Quo party seriously again.”“You’re unusually cynical,” he commented.“I can’t help it, I want to be a politician.”“I take it that you’d be one of the Changeitarians?”“I don’t eat change, I create change.”“That could either be a really bad joke or a really bad campaign slogan.”“They’re called Changeists.” Aranel replied with a straight face.

They couldn’t keep straight faces for long, however, and quickly burst out laughing.

“Oh man,” Aranel said after a little while, “This would be the best lunch I’ve had in weeks if we had any food. I’m starving.”

The boy reached behind his chair, and produced a brown paper bag. “Want half a sandwich? I knew I was eating in here today, and I came prepared. I’ve got an apple and a bag of chips too.”

Aranel’s stomach growled, but she shook her head. “Nah, it’s your lunch,” she said, “I’m the one who ditched my friends and decided to hide out in the library.”

“You sure?”“I’m not stealing your lunch when I don’t even know your name.”“Rean.”She looked at him for a second. “Aranel. You’re my neighbor, aren’t you?”He nodded. “I’ve seen you before.”“You’re Nymea’s little brother.” He nodded again.

“Dude, why are you being nice to me?” She demanded, “I’m friends with your sister. And…”

And she treats you like garbage, and I’ve never said a word against it, her guilty conscience supplied.

He shrugged. “If I made generalizations like that, I’d be just as bad as people who make them about me. And anyways, I know you now.”

“What, a conversation about Llamas is supposed to make us friends?”“Does sitting with Nymea and Amy St. Julien at lunch for a year make you their friend?”

“Not today,” she replied, and reached for the bag of chips.

* * *

Calla, Achenar and Elirand had taken to their freshman year like three ducks to water. Between the three of them, they tried pretty much everything, from sports to debate. Classes were neither so easy as they had hoped, nor so hard as they had feared.

And for freshmen, they had collected quite a crowd around their lunch table.

Though, of course, they couldn’t have everything the way that they wanted. Before they knew it, it seemed like they’d been in high school forever. Their

worries about aspirations, finals, and essays seemed far away and childish. They had much more to worry about. Like the fact that Elirand had been shot down by Meadow Thayer fourteen times already, and showed no intention of getting the message.

“Elirand, this is getting pathetic,” Achenar told his best friend one day, away from Calla, who found the whole situation too amusing to be of any help. “It’s pretty obvious that Meadow doesn’t like you like that.”

“You’re certain she’s not just playing hard to get?”Achenar shook his head. “Man. How can she resist this?” Elirand flexed one of his arms.Achenar rolled his eyes, picturing what Calla would have said if she had seen

that. Arrogant, self-centered pinhead seemed to be her favorite description of her brother these days, but five minutes after the argument had stopped it would be like nothing had ever happened.

“You ever think she might have a crush on someone else?” Achenar asked, to save his friend’s pride as much as anything else.

Elirand seemed to accept the suggestion at face value. “Who, though?”“No idea. Ask Calla.”“Calla told you to tell me to stop, didn’t she?” Elirand asked.“Dude, the two of you live in the same house,” Achenar replied, “I am not being your

messenger.”* * *

For Anariel and Lydia, the whole point of school was being let out of it for the afternoon or the weekend. They seized every opportunity to be together, but more often than not, they ended up at Lydia’s house, because it was closer to both their schools and Anariel’s mother could often pick her up in the carpool on the way back from work. Lydia would have had to ride the bus.

The days were drawing out into the long heat of summer, and the existence of the two girls, who were in their own minds practically adults already, was close to idyllic.

Almost. Anariel was always conscious of the fact that the big speech competition, the one for

the Landgrabb Memorial scholarship, was inching closer with every day. She couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to do it. If they made her go up there, she was going to be sick, and she told Lydia so repeatedly.

Lydia, as ruthless as any other child, was having none of it.“Say it again,” she commanded, as they dangled from the monkey bars.“Aww, but Lydie…”“You’re the one who’s worried about not being prepared.”

“But it’s not going to help. I’m going to go up there and not know any of it.”“Yeah, not practicing is a pretty good way to make sure that happens.”Anariel glared at her best friend. Sometimes she hated Lydia when she was

right. Was it okay to sometimes want to kick your best friend in the shins?She didn’t do it though. She never would. In the end, she was too in awe of

Lydia to do more than entertain the idea for a minute.“Say it.”“Ummmm… Some claim ghosts…”

“Some may claim,” Lydia corrected patiently. Anariel stuck her tongue out at her.“Some may claim that ghosts don’t…”“Do not.”“Whose speech is this?” Anariel asked.“Yours. You wrote it, so get it right,” Lydia replied quickly. “I’m not going to let

you give up on this just because you’re a little scared.”Anariel shook her head. She wasn’t a little scared. She was petrified.

* * *

“I don’t wanna study.” Gabriella kicked her heels against the overstuffed floral couch. Their new apartment was bigger than their trailer had been, but it wasn’t the improvement that she had been promised. They had been supposed to go home. It was with great difficulty that Ginger had made her understand that there was no home to go to.

“Well then, come and eat dinner.”Gabriella considered it. “Your cooking sucks.”

“Gabby!”“Nuh-uh,” Gallagher defended his oldest sister instantly. “It’s good!”“That’s because you like burnt macaroni, Gal.”“Well, it’s macaroni or nothing for you tonight, Gabby,” Ginger replied, trying to sound

reasonable.“Ew. I’ll starve to death before I eat your stupid macaroni again!”Ginger sighed. “Do something,” she said to Gavin. “Like what?” he asked “I don’t know! Something. She won’t listen to me at all.” Gabriella proved that by sticking

out her tongue behind her sister’s back.

“Well, what do you expect me to do about it?” Gavin asked.

“Try backing me up for once,” Ginger snapped, “All you ever do when you’re home is read the

newspaper and do homework.”

“I’m still looking for a job, Ginger. We need the money, and I won’t get a job if I don’t keep

my grades up.”

“What about my grades? I’m failing Algebra because it’s always a choice between feeding the

kids and finishing my homework…”

It was at this point that Gabriella closed her book and left, quietly, for the outside world. She

hated Ginger and Gavin fighting, but she refused to feel guilty about it. It wouldn’t have happened

if Ginger wasn’t so bossy. Gabriella didn’t need anyone to tell her what to do.

Under a minute later, she had made it to the central courtyard of the apartment complex, and spotted a familiar face. She seized on the distraction with both hands.

“Lydia!” she beamed, “guess what? You’ll never guess what! I just moved in here!” She clapped her hands.

“Oh, congratulations,” Lydia said politely. She was acquainted with Gabriella, who was in her class this year, but Gabby didn’t hang out with the same people she did at school. Gabby always tended to be the loudest, most animated person on the playground, and while Lydia might have had ten outgoing points, she didn’t believe in being so outgoing that it was obnoxious.

Gabriella, however, ran right over Lydia’s words without more than a second to catch her breath.

“This is going to be so great! Why didn’t you tell me you lived here! And right across the yard, too – we can have sleepovers, and do each other's hair, and you can be my best friend!” She paused for a breath. “Okay, so you can be my new second-best friend, because Maggie is just stupid now about boys, but that doesn’t matter! We’re going to have so much fun together, you won’t believe it!” She flailed wildly with her arms as she spoke, and ended up nearly knocking the flowers off of one of the bushes.

Lydia waited for a chance to jump into the one-sided conversation.“That’s really nice and everything,” she said.“I know, isn’t it great?”“But I don’t know about being your best friend forever, at least not right away.

I already have one best friend, and I couldn’t do it if she weren’t included.”Gabriella thought about that for a second. “It’s not that Michelle girl, is it?”“No, her name is Ana. She doesn’t go to our school.”

“How can you be best friends with someone who doesn’t even go to our school?” Gabriella demanded.

“Well, we met at a party, and -”“Oh boy, you really need real friends! School friends! It’s lucky for you that I moved

in, because I have tons!” Gabriella cut in, “You can sit next to me at lunch and everything, and I’ll make sure that everyone knows you!”

Lydia finally raised her voice to match Gabriella’s. “Who says Ana’s not my real friend?” she asked loudly.

“Um, duh, you can’t seriously think you’re friends with someone who doesn’t play with you at recess,” Gabriella replied dismissively.

“That’s not the only part of being a friend, Gabriella.”“Okay, so maybe it’s not always as important as having someone who will always

back you up when you argue with someone, but it’s still really important.” Gabriella said, “And when you finally have a real best friend, me, I can totally back you up, but you’ve got to back me up first, because everyone knows I’m totally right, and -”

“No.” It took a moment for the word to lodge in Gabriella’s brain.“What do you mean, no? Everyone wants more friends!”“Not if you don’t respect my friendship with Ana. She was there first.”And Gabriella, who always had words to spare, only gave her two in reply.“Fine, then,” she said, and flounced out.

Why was it that nobody wanted her?* * *

“Aranel.”Ara had no idea why her father wanted to speak to her, but from his tone it wasn’t

to congratulate her on finishing her latest painting or earning another scholarship. He wouldn’t be standing there with that serious look on his face if it was.

“Yeah, dad?”Haldir just looked at her for a moment. “Rose Greenman just called,” he said.Oh. So that was it. She really ought to have remembered that.

“Look, dad,” she began, “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but it’s not really as bad as it sounds, okay? I mean, no one got hurt.” Immediately realizing how bad that would sound if he hadn’t heard the whole story, she forged forward quickly. “See, there was this guy at the farmer’s market who was pestering Daisy, and she couldn’t do anything about it, so I only wanted to chase him off, but, well…” she shrugged, embarassed. “I kind of ended up knocking him over.”

“But I didn’t hit him that hard,” she added immediately, “and he completely deserved it. I mean, what kind of jerk goes around picking on Daisy? It’s not like she can defend herself.”

She risked a glance at Haldir’s stern face, and then directed her gaze at the living room floor again.

“I’m grounded again, aren’t I?”

To her surprise, her father began to laugh.“Well, maybe not exactly,” he finally said. She looked at him in surprise, so

he explained. “You did the right thing – admittedly in the wrong way – but the fact that you admitted it and were willing to take the punishment argues that you knew that already.”

Aranel very wisely chose that moment not to say anything.“Rose told me just about everything,” he continued, trying to put a stern

expression back on his face, “And while I don’t approve at all of you fighting -”

“It wasn’t exactly a fight,” Aranel burst in before he could continue.“True. Rose told me that her children say you put him down with one punch.”Aranel had the grace to look a little ashamed, even though Haldir was having

a hard time keeping the amusement from his voice.“Violence isn’t a good way to solve things, Aranel,” he said, gently. “You

know that. But all the same there are situations in which you have to use whatever you’ve got.”

“Like when some jerk gets in your face like that.”“No. That would have been a situation for words, or for simply walking

away,” Haldir replied. “When there is real, physical danger to be dealt with, then it is acceptable to fight. But the words of an ignorant boy can’t do any real damage, Ara. You have to pick your battles, especially since there is no way to win all of them.”

Aranel knew better. She knew that words had the power to wound hearts and ruin lives, and that was just at high school. But she said nothing. Your parents were supposed to punish you for fighting, and her father believed what he said. If you walked away you just let the words go on and on, even worse because the other person thought that they had won.

You had to fight the words that other people said, the cruel untrue words, before the whole world believed them. But a good punch to the face only shut people up for a little while.

How did you punch a rumor and knock it to the ground?

“I guess,” Aranel replied reluctantly, because she could see that her father required some sort of response.

“I’m not grounding you today, Aranel,” Haldir said, “but I do want you to think about what you’ve done. You won your fight, but there are plenty of other things that could have happened and very few of them are good.”

Aranel nodded, and Haldir turned to go.

“Ara?” she turned her head at the sound of her father’s voice, and she caught the smile that had finally emerged. “For what it’s worth, I am proud of you. There aren’t as many people in the world who would have stuck up for Daisy at all as there should be. You used your strength in order to defend someone weaker, instead of just avenging your own pride.”

And with that, he left her with her stomach churning with shame. That day she definitely hadn’t thought much about defending the weak. Just about her own selfish pride.

* * *

There were far too many people out there. Anariel took a quick peek around the edge of the curtain and then sank back with a

gulp. The high school had an enormous auditorium and it was filled with students, teachers, and parents.

She should have pretended to be sick or something. There was no way she could go out there alone with all those strangers watching. She’d freak out and run away and everyone would see that she was a coward. Aranel and Achenar were out there and they’d be ashamed that their baby sister couldn’t face something as simple as a prepared speech.

Oh, yeah, and her speech was lame. It was supposed to be a persuasive piece, and other kids had written speeches about letting the school have casual fridays or about getting a new club started up. One boy had written a piece on things that the mayor should reform.

But Ana just had to try too hard and make a speech to persuade her classmates that supernatural beings, such as ghosts, were real. She’d done mountains of research – it had taken at least two hours to find sources – and she’d changed the speech so many times that she was no longer certain if it made any sense.

She clenched her fists and noticed that the paper crumpled, then hastily smoothed it out against her skirt. All around her, kids were pacing around, muttering words under their breath, and gathered in groups talking. There was barely room to move back there, especially with two of the other girls amusing themselves by climbing the ladder into the prop loft.

She couldn’t do this. She was going to be sick. Someone was giggling from above her, and she could hear the principal of the high school

talking. It took a long time for her to figure out the words.“Virginia Gothier will now speak on the importance of having a gardening club,” he said,

and the first student walked out to scattered applause.

She was going to be sick in front of everyone. And there was no way for her to get through the crowd of students behind her to go for the bathroom. They were going in alphabetical order and she wasn’t very far down the list.

Ana wondered whether she shouldn’t have researched how to disappear instead. It would have been more useful than talking about ghosts, which nobody believed in and everyone was going to think was stupid anyhow.

“Ghosts don’t Exist,” Aranel had said when Ana had tried to ask her about them. “You don’t need to worry about them.”

Ana read her speech over again.Some may claim that ghosts do not exist, but there is a lot of evidence that suggests

that they do. How else can you explain –It was no good. It sounded stupid. She was going to sound stupid. That, or pass out

on stage with everyone watching. Maybe if she hid in the curtains they’d get fed up with waiting for her to come out and just skip her. Then she could go home and hide under the bed.

“ – riel Anise Elvensong.”

Had that been her name? There wasn’t anyone else whose last name was Elvensong in her class, so it must be. They were waiting for her to come out – it was going to look stupid to come out so late –

“Pssst, Ana!” She looked up in time to see one of her classmates leaning out from behind the ladder. “You’re up! Good luck!”

Luck? She thought blankly as she walked out from behind the curtains. Unnoticed, her paper dropped to the floor.

How she wished she could be anywhere else, anywhere at all. She should have known better – it wasn’t good enough to practice in the mirror, or to repeat her speech over and over again to Lydia. She was just too much of a coward to face this many people.

She didn’t even hear the applause as she stepped up to the podium, and looked out at the sea of faces before her.

Instantly, she looked back down. There was no paper on the podium. Her speech was gone. How did it start,

anyway? I want to talk about ghosts. No, that was wrong, that had been the first draft that Aranel had said wasn’t strong enough. Some of you may think that ghosts do not exist, but I know that they do. No, she’d gone to Achenar, who had said that it would be better if she started with some concrete evidence, or perhaps a little bit of introduction. Ghosts are real – no, that was later – you cannot explain…

G… ghosts are… proof of hauntings in homes where urns and gravestones are… something… relatives especially… I can’t do this.

Aranel swallowed and looked back out at the sea of faces, feeling strangely serene. She’d just excuse herself and say she’d lost her voice. Yeah, that was it. They couldn’t make her make the speech if she’d lost her voice. She wondered why she hadn’t thought of that before.

“Just pretend you’re talking to me,” Lydia had said as they kicked their feet against the step of her porch. “Since strangers bother you, pretend you’re talking to a friend.”

Lydia would understand that she couldn’t do this. Even though Lydia wouldn’t have had a problem with standing up in front of all these people and telling them anything. She really wished that Lydia were here.

There were starting to be whispers in the audience.“Um,” she said in a voice so small she could barely hear herself. She reached up and

fiddled with the microphone and it made a horrible noise. “Yikes!” She exclaimed, and the microphone picked it up and carried it loudly around the

auditorium. There were a few giggles, then silence. Everyone was waiting for her to say something.

“I, um, I didn’t know it would be so loud,” she apologized, beginning to turn red at the tips of her ears. There was more scattered laughter. They were laughing at her. What would Lydia do?

“People aren’t always laughing at you, Ana. I’m not laughing at you, that would be mean. But you say some funny things sometimes and you don’t even notice it.”

But Lydia could turn anything into a joke. People liked Lydia right away. Not that Ana was jealous, or anything – Lydia was just that awesome.

Anariel was nervous enough that her mouth was not under her direct control.“My best friend is awesome,” she said, and it echoed in the auditorium until

she realized that she had said it out loud. It took her brain a long, sluggish moment to decide that she might as well explain. “Her name’s Lydia. She wouldn’t be scared at all to be up here talking to you. She talks to everyone.” Anariel thought for a minute, before adding, somewhat lamely, “And her speech would be pretty awesome too. She doesn’t go to this school, though.”

“That’s not because she’s stupid or anything,” she added, quickly, hoping that no one got the wrong idea about Lydia. “She’s plenty smart enough to go here. She’s pretty much the top of her class at her school, and she does awesome things there. She won the spelling bee. She made a really huge fish out of paper-mache for art and won a prize, except I didn’t get to see it because when she took it home on the bus it was raining and it got ruined. But she shared the chocolate bar she won for it with me anyway.”

“Lots of people would have just eaten it themselves, but she saved it until I could come over because she knew that milk chocolate is my favorite,” Anariel continued, remembering, “And she split it exactly in half so it would be fair. But then Orion came in – that’s her little brother – and he was so sad that he didn’t get any chocolate that Lydia broke hers in half again and gave him half.” Ana felt kind of bad about that, but at that point, she’d already eaten her chocolate.

“Lydia said that it was okay, though, because me and Orion liked chocolate better than she did. She likes the kind with almonds best.” Ana smiled at the memory, and nearly forgot that she was talking about it in front of all those people.

“She also told me, don’t be afraid of talking to people. She’s really brave, and I’m not, but she said that if people are laughing at you then you have to do something that’s stupid or funny and make it a joke. That way you get to laugh too.”

“I really wish that Lydia went to school here, but she doesn’t. She goes to public school because her parents can’t afford it. That’s why I don’t get to see her as often, because she lives pretty far away too. I’d like to see her every day, but usually I only see her on weekends. She spent all of last weekend helping me with my speech, even though she doesn’t go here, because she knew that the Landgrabb scholarship was a big deal here. I didn’t want to, because I was scared, and I didn’t need the scholarship, but I wanted her to be proud of me anyways.”

“I really, really tried,” Anariel whispered. “But Lydia is the one who deserves the scholarship, not me. I can’t even remember what my real speech was supposed to be on. I got so nervous that I forgot.”

It was only a moment later that she looked up and realized that there were still people listening.

People who had just heard her tell everything, and admit to being scared. People who probably thought she was stupid and a coward and – a tear ran down her nose – a big crybaby.

Anariel looked up at the crowd and her voice quavered. She blurted the first thing that came to mind. “And that’s why you should give my friend Lydia the scholarship,” she said, and ran offstage before anyone could realize that her speech was over.

She started crying so hard that she could barely hear the clapping. She was never going to do this again.

* * *

The night surrounding her was quiet. At least, it would have been if Nymea couldn’t hear her younger sister’s snores drifting through the open doorway. She’d tried pinching Idalese already, and it hadn’t done a thing.

Nymea stared out into the night, mentally counting the days before she could be out of this hell hole and off to college. She had scholarships, thanks to the fancy shmancy private school, and she had once more convinced her parents that they could still afford to send her. Of course, money wouldn’t be so tight if they hadn’t been sending her useless brother and sister as well, but her parents had never been gifted with much intelligence, much like her siblings.

Nymea took a moment to contemplate the amount of time she had left before she was free of this horrible backwater. A year and a half. That was far too long, but it got shorter every day. If she could keep herself sane for long enough to make it out of here, that was.

Gavin was supposed to have been her ticket out of here, a early taste of the life that she knew she deserved. But the lying asshole had been even more broke than she was, and playing her for a fool. She hated people who lied to her.

At least at school she could pretend that she didn’t have to put up with all this.

But school she had to be careful what she said. Amy would turn on her like a

pirahnna in an instant, like Aranel already had. She had made that ungrateful

bitch. Hadn’t that been her life’s ambition, to be popular? And Nymea, like always,

was thrown away at the first opportunity. So much for being a good friend.

Nymea drummed her fingers against the railing and stared out into the yard.

A stealthy movement caught her eye, and she wasn’t in the least surprised to see her brother sneaking back home in the dead of night, still wearing his school uniform. Why should Rean have all the fun?

She would have gone running to tell her parents, in the hopes that the small measure of revenge would make her feel better, but she knew that they just didn’t care enough to make Rean’s life as miserable as befitted his crime. Plus, if they were alerted to the fact that the balcony stairs were a convenient means of escape in the small hours of the morning, it might jeapordize her own chances of having a midnight social life.

Maybe she’d threaten him with the idea, just to blow off some steam. Rean always had been too concerned with their parents’ opinion of him. She personally didn’t care what they thought, as long as they stayed out of her way, but Rean had always been pathetically eager to please them.

Now, if only he would wrap it up with his friend and get in here, she had some dirt to taunt her brother with.

Had her brother just kissed that other boy?* * *

“Finished your homework?” Midina asked, as her oldest daughter came into the living room. It had been a good day, and she was content to sit on the couch and watch Orion play with Delphina.

Lydia was watching her brother and sister as well, but she wore a puzzled frown on her face. “Mom?” she asked, quietly, “How come Orion and Phina have blonde hair like you and Makir and I don’t?”

Midina opened her mouth to explain, then thought better of it. “Why don’t you sit down?” she said.

Lydia did. “I was doing my biology homework, and I was reading in the book and it said that all sims have two genes for their hair and eye colors. It said red and blonde are recessive, and brown and black are dominant, so you have to have either a red gene and a blonde gene or two blonde genes to be blonde. But that can’t be right, because somehow I got a brown gene…”

“All right, slow down,” Midina said. “I understand now.”“You do?” Lydia said, suddenly allowing her wildly gesturing hands to drop back

downwards.

“Yes. You see, you have brown hair because your father does.”“Why does he dye it?”“Ah… no, Makir is blonde, like your brother and sister. Your biological

father, however, is a brunet like,” Midina took a short breath, then managed to finish, “like you.”

“But… but Makir’s not my dad, then?” Lydia asked in a quiet voice, obviously shocked, “Then why… who is?”

Midina sighed. “Your biological father…” she stopped, unsure of how to continue. “Your father is not a very nice man,” she began again. “I left him before you were even born.”

“Oh.” Lydia’s face fell. Yet Midina didn’t know what to tell her. The truth was painful, too painful for a child, but she choked up at the thought of telling the obvious lie to her own daughter. There were enough lies in the world already.

“So you didn’t really want me at all, did you?”

“Oh, Lydie… that’s not it at all. You weren’t exactly planned, but I did want you. There’s a huge difference. As soon as I held you in my arms, I couldn’t imagine life without you. Never think anything else. You were a surprise, but you were a good surprise.”

The fear that had sliced through her in the cold twilight when she had seen Lydia’s face for the first time rose to the back of her mind. She had spoken quickly, unable to bear the disappointment on her daughter's face. But there had been determination, and a fierce pride as well.

For these past twelve years, Midina had been prepared to do anything for her daughter.

“Lydia,” she said softly, “Makir and I love you very much. You know that, right?”Lydia nodded, but she wasn’t meeting her mother’s eyes. She was staring at Orion

and Delphina on the other side of the room. Delphina was shrieking in laughter as Orion made a pair of blocks zoom around her head. Then he set two blue blocks and a green block in front of her.

“One of these things is not like the others,” he sang, “One of these things just doesn’t belong.”

“I know,” Lydia said quietly.

“We’re very proud of you, too,” Midina continued gently, “You’ve been working very hard in school, and you’re going to be a very big girl soon.”

Lydia nodded. She was almost a teenager, and she knew what her mother was about to say. Her mom was about to start talking about new responsibilities, new chores that she was old enough to help out with, being able to watch her brother and sister at home while the adults were away.

“Makir and I have decided that you should be allowed to help with something very important to us,” Midina continued, twisting her engagement ring in circles on her finger. “I wasn’t going to tell you so long before it happened, but I think you ought to know.

Curious, Lydia finally looked up, facing her mother, who smiled encouragingly.

“I want to ask if you’ll stand up at our wedding,” Midina said.“Really? I can?”“Yes, really,” Midina said, “It was actually Makir’s idea.” He had said that

the whole family should be involved, since they were finally making the family official and all of the kids were part of that package, but Midina didn’t have a problem with emphasizing the part which would be more important to Lydia.

Lydia’s face broke into a smile.There was a comfortable silence of about a minute while they sat there together, Lydia

basking in the contented glow of excitement. Midina let out a breath that she hadn’t realized that she’d been holding. She was so glad that Lydia had taken everything so well, with very little trouble. It nagged at her that she hadn’t told her sooner, but first she’d been far too little to understand, and she and Orion had gotten along so well with Makir, and…

“Mom, can I ask you a question?” Lydia said.“You can always ask me a question,” Midina replied.

“Can you tell me who my biological dad is?” Midina’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Pretty please?”

“Lydia…”“Come on, mom, if you were me, wouldn’t you be the teensiest bit curious?

Wouldn’t you really, really want to know? Just the name?”

“Lydia, I can’t…”“Please? I just want to know his name, mom. It’s not like I’m going to go

looking for him or anything.”

“Her name is Lydia.” “Surely even a whore like you can keep track of how many men you’ve slept with. What makes you so certain that it’s my brat?”

“You and your brat can rot, for all I care!”

“Get out of my house.”

“No one will care if you scream.”

“No, Lydia,” Midina said, “I won’t tell you.”“Aww, mom…”“Lydia, I decided to leave him because,” Midina had to stop for a second, “because of

how he treated me. He wouldn’t have been a good father for you to grow up with either. I need you to trust my decision for now, but I promise that someday you’ll be old enough to hear everything.”

“I’m old enough now.”“No. You’re not.” Lydia didn’t press the matter further. Her mother’s face was a closed

door.* * *

It was before dawn when the members of the Elvensong household gathered to meet the new baby. After three children, Viridia had thought that the labor would be as easy as those she had experienced with Achenar and Anariel. She had been wrong. She was exhausted, but she smiled at her children and her husband as she cradled the baby in her arms. It was always worth it.

Haldir had been cornered by Ana, who wanted to know where the baby had come from, while Achenar and Aranel tried to stay out of his way.

“… so yes, you probably missed the stork,” Haldir was saying. “He’s always busy bringing babies, you know.”

“Oh,” Anariel looked a little sad at having missed seeing the stork, and Viridia gave Haldir a look over her shoulder. They’d have to tell Ana the truth eventually, after all.

“So, do I get to see my baby brother?” Aranel asked, snapping Viridia’s mind back to the present. “Hey, Achenar, he looks just like you. Except he doesn’t have your big nose yet.”

“We have the same nose, Aranel,” Achenar replied, trying to hide his amusement.“It looks better on me, though.”

Viridia sighed tiredly. She didn’t have the energy to bring her two oldest children to order right now. Thankfully, Aranel found baiting her even-tempered brother to be at best a momentary amusement.

“Hey there, tyke,” Aranel addressed the baby, “you’re going to grow up and be big and strong and play in the dirt and not be prissy at all, okay? But I’m not changing your diapers, you hear? Keep the squalling to a minimum and we’re set, little brother.”

“Actually, Ara, the baby is a girl.”

“What?” Aranel asked, but

Anariel had already barged in.

“A sister!” she squealed

excitedly, “I get a baby sister!

We can play with dolls and my

bear, and I can braid her hair…”

“Ew. This is why I wanted a

brother.” Aranel cut in.

“You’ll have to wait until she has some hair, sweetpea,” Viridia told

Anariel, sending Ara a quelling look. “But I could certainly use your help

with Ariadne.”

“You mean like with diapers and stuff,” Ana said.

“Your older sister and brother can help with that,” Viridia said, “but I’ll

need everybody’s help with chores around the house.”

“Don’t worry, mommy! I’ll do it for the baby,” Ana promised happily.

“Hey, wait a minute – how did I get volunteered for diaper duty?” Aranel demanded. “I mean, I’ll take out the trash and weed the garden but diapers? Ew.”

Viridia turned to her oldest daughter. “You’re going to have to learn some day,” she said, “Now take your sister for a moment.”

“What?”“Aranel, I am exhausted, and I don’t think that it’s too much to ask that you

hold your sister for a little while.”

“But -” Aranel wasn’t given much time to protest before she was handed the baby.

“Support her head.”“Um…”“That’s fine. Now you two girls can spend some time together, but I

desperately need a nap. Wake me up in a few hours and we’ll see if she’s hungry.

Aranel looked down at the black haired, green-eyed baby in disbelief. She couldn’t believe she’d been saddled with a baby. They were messy, they cried… and then when they got older people turned little sisters into fussy crybabies and annoying tag-alongs. From listening to Ana talk, the poor thing was going to spend life festooned in pink ribbons.

Baby Ariadne made a little burbling sound in her throat and started flexing her tiny fingers.

“You see, Aranel, she likes you already,” Viridia said. The whole family filed out of the room, leaving Aranel holding her sister.

“Ariadne, huh?” She lifted the baby up in the air and inspected her. Ariadne burbled and waved her arms, and Ara could swear that she was laughing.

“Well, you don’t seem too bad,” she admitted grudgingly, “and you don’t stink yet, so maybe you can just hang out with me until you do, and then mom or dad can take care of that.”

Ariadne reached for her nose.“Oh no you don’t. You already have one of those, you little monster,” Aranel scolded her.

But she couldn’t keep the smile off her face.* * *

Viridia stood in the living room, looking out over everything and everyone. It was good to have people filling the house like this. Increasingly, it seemed like she only ever saw everyone together at birthdays.

Of course, given that this was a celebration of Ariadne’s birth, it probably did count as a birthday party. But it was still good to have everyone together, no matter what the excuse for the party was.

Nearly everyone had been able to make it – Midina had brought all three of her children, though her fiance had to work, and of course it was impossible to find Achenar without Chalimyra and Talon’s twins. The three of them were still attached at the hip after all these years.

And then, of course, there was Lydia, who had taken Ana off somewhere to play. Strange, to think that very soon her middle daughter would be a teenager. It was hard to fathom with the small, warm bundle of baby in her arms. Surely it had only been yesterday that Ara, that Achenar had been this small, this vulnerable? As for Ana – well, she was barely out of the crib herself.

“Well, hey there little girl. You look just like your Daddy. I just bet you have your mama’s nose, though. I’m betting that you’re going to grow up an Aquarius like your auntie Elu, yes you are.”

“Starting to regret never having any of your own, Elu?” Viridia asked with a smile. “Nah. I get to monopolize yours all I want, but I also get to sleep through the night

this way.”Viridia laughed a little, “It is a little hard. I seem to have forgotten how to go

without sleep in the past few years.”

“Aww. Are you being trouble for your mother?” Eluisa asked Ariadne, who looked up at her with big eyes. “You should know better than that. Your mama’s getting on in years now, you know.”

“I am not.”“Viri, your oldest daughter is a junior in high school. If that’s not getting on, I don’t know

what is.”“That’s why I started young, you old spinster. So I’d still be young and beautiful when

my children started looking into colleges.”

“Spinster! Why I never,” Eluisa exclaimed in mock indignation.

“You’re older than I am, Elu.”

“Ariadne, you are so lucky that I am your godmother, or I would have to be

very offended at your mother for lying about my age like that. I’m still young

and I’m going to be young forever.”

Ariadne giggled. “Even a baby knows you’re full of beans, Elu,” Viridia said.

“Excuse us, but I believe it is traditional for other people besides the godmother to get to see the baby,” Chalimyra interrupted. “Stop hogging her, Elu.”

Eluisa backed off at the other two women’s approach. “Don’t you two have your own children?” she asked, laughing, “Why do you have to steal my goddaughter?”

“My children are in high school,” Chalimyra pointed out.“Go play with your other goddaughter, Elu,” Midina said.

Eluisa did, even though it seemed that Delphina was a little occupied at the moment. Orion was busy entertaining her behind the loveseat, but he happily scampered off to find a “big kid” to play with when Eluisa arrived.

Delphina had certainly grown in recent months. She had a lot of blonde hair – which was to be expected from Midina’s family, really – and she also had her father’s dark-blue eyes, which filled their sockets with color instead of white.

Well, Eluisa reminded herself, she could easily have turned out to be grey. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but having a grey toddler walking around would have been far more noticeable.

“You, my friend, are going to need to get out of this house,” Elirand was saying, “You’ve got three sisters now.”

“And there’s something wrong with sisters because…?”Elirand ignored Calla, as there was no good way for him to answer that. “More to the

point, everyone’s going to be making a fuss about the baby, so I’m certain your parents will be happy to have you out of their hair.”

“If you’re going to propose an impromptu camping trip again, the answer is the same as it was last time,” Achenar replied, “It is just not possible to hike to Three Lakes from here.”

“No, it’s not that,” Elirand said, “Though we wouldn’t have had to hike, there’s always the bus… Anyhow, I had a great idea, and the three of us are going to start on a very lucrative enterprise.”

“Is it that garage band idea again?” Achenar asked, already resigned to the fact that none of them knew how to play an instrument.

“No, though it was not that bad of an idea,” Elirand said instantly, while Calla laughed. “It’s guaranteed to make us some money, and better yet it will get you out of babysitting duty. Your mom and dad will even approve of it.”

“All right then, what is it?”“It’s… um, it’s a state secret. At least for this week.”Achenar was nonplussed. “Let me get this straight: you’re expecting me to go along with

another one of your hare-brained moneymaking schemes when I don’t even know what the scheme is.”

“Well, isn’t that what best friends are for?” Elirand asked, “No, it’ll be awesome, trust me on that.”

“You might as well give up,” Calla put in, “he’s resolved not to tell you until we can actually start. Now, are we playing Don’t Wake the Llama or not?”

“So, what do you know about this, Calla?” Achenar asked as they all sat down. “He already told you?”

“Hello, same house, remember? All I have to say is, it’s no where near as stupid as usual.”“Thanks so much for all your support, sis.”“I see,” Achenar said suspiciously, “so this time it does not involve selling garden gnomes

back to their rightful owners? Or digging holes for hours?”“Hey, both of those were commercially viable -”They were interrupted by Orion before the argument could start again. “Excuse me, can I

play with you guys?” he asked.

“Sure thing,” Calla said, “You can help me beat these two dunderheads if you want.”

“Great!”“Who said there were teams in Don’t Wake the Llama?” Elirand grumbled.“I did. So there.” Calla replied.A thump from the far side of the living room distracted Achenar. Ana, who was

playing cops and robbers with Lydia, had run heavily into the wall.“Oh no. Here come the tears,” Achenar sighed, fully prepared to have her come

running over to him. He was surprised when she simply picked herself up and continued playing.

“That was odd,” Achenar observed as he turned to the game, “normally there’s tears for every little scrape.”

“Well, she’s going to be a teen pretty soon,” Calla said reasonably, making her first move, “It shouldn’t be too surprising that she’s grown up a little.”

“Unlike some of us, who still cheat at board games,” Elirand grumbled. “Don’t think I don’t see you steadying that stick with your pinkie, sis.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, my dear brother,” Calla replied arily, tipping Orion a huge wink.”

“Bam bam! Surrender!” Ana cried out gleefully, as Lydia played the part of the guilty robber to perfection.

“Oh no! I’m trapped!” she said.“You can still run to the left if you think we should do the chase part longer,” Anariel

supplied in a helpful undertone. Lydia risked a glance.“Nah, if we knock over your sister’s easel she’s going to be mad, and if we knock over the

dining room your mom won’t be happy either.”“I guess. I like the chase part better than the rest, though.”“That’s only because you’re the one doing the chasing.”

Lydia immediately proceeded to drop to the ground and pretend to be shot.“Oh no, officer! You got me!”“Poor robber! I’ll call the paramedics!”“You’re not supposed to call the paramedics, Ana,” Lydia reminded her from the floor,

“I’m public enemy number 1, remember?”“Yeah, but you confused me. The really bad robber is supposed to shout ‘never’ when the

cops tell her to surrender. So I thought I’d give you a chance to repent of your crimes and all.”

Lydia sighed, “Well, public enemy number 1 is dead now. Congratulations, officer Ana.”

She got up and dusted herself off.“Can I tell you a secret?” Ana asked, leaning in. Lydia nodded. “Remember that

speech I had to give?” Lydia nodded once more. “Well, I told you about it when I came over last time, but I didn’t tell you exactly everything. I was really scared.”

“But you gave the speech anyway,” Lydia reminded her. “Which was pretty brave.”“But I didn’t give the speech. At least, not the one that I was practicing. I lost the

paper.”

Lydia’s eyes widened. “But… how did you know what to say? You didn’t have the speech memorized, did you?”

“Shh. No, I didn’t give the right speech. I said something else. But it’s okay, because I was only getting a grade for the speech we turned in to the teacher anyway.”

“What did you say?”“Well, I just started talking, you know? And it wasn’t too hard,” Ana fibbed,

choosing not to tell Lydia that she’d wanted to throw up or disappear. “But the speech was about you, more or less.”

“All right, kid, just watch the master at work,” Calla said to Orion.“That is one evil smile you’ve got there, Calla,” Achenar commented.“Why thank you,” she replied, “It’s because you boys are about to get your

butts kicked.”“Really, Calla?” Elirand put in, “Trash talking at a kids game?”“You’re the one who started it,” she pointed out. “What were you saying,

Achenar?”

“Oh, just that Aranel’s been acting weird lately, that’s all,” he replied, “she hasn’t been going over to the Greenleaves’ house at all, and she paints a lot, when she’s not studying.”

“So obviously she’s either become a knowledge sim or being an upperclassman is harder than it looks,” Elirand said, “So what? Focus here Achenar, or we’re going to be beat by a ten year old and a girl.”

“That’s not it, though. It’s like she’s actually trying to be nice to Anariel for a change.”“One sister stops being a crybaby and the other decides that she’s finally grown up

enough to talk to,” Elirand summarized. “Not something to worry about, ‘Enar. Also, why are you complaining about it?”

“I’m not complaining,” said Achenar, placing his stick, “It’s just odd, that’s all.”“Dangit. Stop doing that,” Elirand said, when he noticed how carefully he

would have to make his turn. “We’re not going to win if you keep sabotaging me like that.”

“Who said there were teams in Don’t Wake the Llama?” Achenar replied with a grin.

Calla smirked. “Nothing’s odd about it,” she said.

“How so?” Elirand replied, sitting back and crossing his arms. “Hah. Got it,” he said triumphantly to Achenar.

“Aw, man! How am I supposed to beat that?” Orion asked.“Carefully,” Calla told him. “Anyhow, it’s not really mysterious. It’s just that Ara isn’t

friends with Nymea anymore, or with any of that crowd, really.”“And you know this how?”Calla gave Achenar a look. “Do you people never pay attention when people are talking?

Or do the words just fall in one ear and out the other? People were talking about it for days.”

“Well, excuse me for not gossiping about my own sister.”“It’s not gossip, it’s telling stories. Oh, good job, Orion!”“Thanks, Calla!”“When did you two join the cheer squad?” Elirand demanded.“Rah rah rah!” Calla exclaimed, mocking her brother, “We’re gonna win, rah rah rah!”

Noticing that this did nothing to cheer Achenar up, she stopped quickly. “Relax, ‘Enar,” she said, “It wasn’t really such a big deal at the time. And if Ara had a problem with it, you would have heard about it by now.”

“Probably,” he agreed, though his heart wasn’t in it.

The party was winding down by the time that Midina finally got a moment of her own with the new baby.

“Hey there, Ariadne,” she said, looking at the small child. “Bet you’re tired, huh?” Her answer was the flapping of the baby’s hand.“Well, don’t worry about that, I’m sure your mom will be back to put you to bed

soon.” Midina said. “I just have to get to you before everyone else hogs you for themselves. You do look just like Haldir, though. I wonder how that’ll be on a girl.”

The baby burbled. “Aw, it won’t look that bad,” Midina said hastily. “Your sisters took after your mamma, though. See them? And your brother too.” She shifted so that Ariadne could look over her shoulder at the far end of the living room, where all of the other children were.

“Soon enough you’ll be crawling around with Delphina,” Midina continued, “And then both of you will be running around in circles, screaming like all these other kids.”

She smiled at the little girl.

“You have years and years yet before you have to worry about time, though,” Midina continued with a grin, hoisting the baby onto her hip. “Do you want to know a secret about being the youngest?” The baby laid her head sleepily on Midina’s shoulder, so Midina continued in a sing-song voice. “Everyone’s older than you, but that’s not a bad thing. We’ll all be old and doddering and grey while you’re still young and beautiful.”

* * *

Zaliander the wise looked out at the rain smashing against the leaded panes of

his window, and opened one of last week's newspapers. Ignoring the headlines, he

skipped straight to the center pages, where the fine details of life in Riverblossom

Hills and the surrounding county were chronicled in an abysmally small typeset.

Honor Roll, he read, Riverblossom Hills Academy

Scott Bendett… his eyes traveled down the list until he reached a name he

recognized.

Elvensong, Achenar, which was followed immediately after by Elvensong, Aranel. Further

down, in the elementary school section, he encountered Elvensong, Anariel. He circled each name

with a quick scratch of his quill pen, and threw the page on the pile on the side table. The yellow

leaves of each stretched back through the years, saying very little. It was the articles pegged to the

wooden beam nearby that were truly interesting, yet even they gave him very little information of

value. Descriptions of school plays, of soccer games, of a debate victory of Aranel’s, of the

speaking scholarship won, surprisingly, by Anariel, yet somehow awarded to her best friend, of the

Academic decathlon team’s near-victory against Bluewater Hills Preparatory School. Some of

them even had pictures, showing the three Elvensong children at various stages of growth, often

accompanied by friends who were obviously of elven descent.

But the accounts in the papers were dry and dull, and it irritated him that he could not

find more information. Of course, he couldn’t exactly walk down from the mountains

into Riverblossom Hills and start asking questions. He had to exercise more caution than

that. But time was slowly but surely running out, and he still didn’t know which one

would be right. There were things to consider about each of them, but he simply didn’t

have enough data.

He couldn’t blame Haldir. Invitations to birthday parties could only last so long, after all, and though Zaliander would have preferred to meet more than just the oldest daughter in person, he understood why Haldir would choose to forget, for a time, the terms of their deal. And it was convenient to his own personal agenda that he would not be generally remembered as having dealt extensively with that family.

If he was perfectly honest with himself, he didn’t think that he could bear to have them trust him. It was bad enough that he had struck a deal with a desperate man – in service of a higher cause – but to be welcomed into his home afterwards, with none of his smiling family the wiser, had made even his ancient and hardened heart twist uncomfortably. There was a limit to what even he could, in good conscience, undertake.

He knew that he had to decide soon, and that hesitation was only likely to

complicate the issue. Even up in the mountains, he had felt the earthquake and seen

the lights that accompanied it. Limited though his powers may currently be, he was

not robbed of his wits. Even a half-trained apprentice could have deduced the

implications of those lights. There would be no more chances: it had to be the

children of Haldir.

One of these three… A decision which he examined every weekend without coming to a conclusion. An Enigma. He didn’t know enough, yet, about the youngest child, but from what he had collected, he could neither discount her nor approach her as a candidate. The oldest girl was many things – driven, intelligent, well-liked – but somehow she seemed, to his instincts, to be the wrong choice, too closely connected to this modern world. He should chose the boy. After all, it was just – the boy would not have been born without his intervention. His very name proclaimed that fact.

He wondered what had possessed

the child’s mother to give him that

name. She might believe that Achenar

was a triumphant name for the boy who

she had almost died carrying – the elvish

meant “won from grief,” but advertizing

such a victory was tantamount to

inviting disaster. Nonetheless, he

shouldn’t let his guilt rule the child out.

The boy had many admirable qualities,

though so far his high-school career had

been overshadowed by his larger-than

life sister. And perhaps it would be best

to choose the one who appeared to be

more even-tempered.

Yet… Yet for some reason, he could not look at the most recent newspaper picture, in which he

stood behind a second-place trophy with all the other youths, without guilt. It could be the smile, or

the way the other two youths had an arm each around his shoulders, as if, despite the obvious genetic

differences in their dusky skin and blue eyes, he were one of them. Not alone, but part of a whole.

The same argument stood for the boy as for his sister. He was already too connected to this place.

In all conscience, he couldn’t choose the younger daughter until he had some evidence of the woman she would grow into. What he had seen so far recorded many of the same promises and pitfalls as her older siblings.

To justify what he was going to do, it somehow wasn’t enough to consider the lives which hung in the balance. He had to be absolutely certain that this would work.

He was back to the beginning again, and kicked viciously at the newspaper in frustration. Time was running out. The youngest daughter would barely begin high school before the elder went to college, and timing was everything. Too early, and they’d never listen – too late, and they’d have already started down a different path.

The newspaper drifted in pieces down to the floor. Groaning to himself, he bent his old back to gather the leaves back up and search once more for a relevant detail.

One page had drifted under his desk, and he had to get down on his knees to fish it out. It was the section dedicated to obituaries and birth announcements, and thus very dull, as it covered the entire county. The only recent births in Riverblossom Hills had been quadruplets, to some couple with an odd last name and a botanical taste in first names. As for the obituaries, he was uninterested in them. There was a great enough awareness of death in the world without advertizing it.

He scanned the births column anyway, and was caught by a word.Viridia and Haldir Elvensong, he read, are pleased to announce the birth of their

daughter, Ariadne Riann Elvensong, last Tuesday morning. Ariadne joins siblings Aranel, Achenar, and Anariel.

Zaliander stared at the print for a long time, then tore it from the rest of the page, which fluttered unheeded to the floor. Finding a free spot on the wooden pillar, he transfixed it with a tack.

Perhaps he had more time than he thought.* * *

Author’s Note:I had so much fun with the

school set this chapter. There’s easter eggs all over the place, like the map of middle-earth in the picture above.

And it’s a good thing that I’m finally getting the school arranged to my liking, because there are only a few more chapters this generation set in it.

Strictly speaking, there are only a few more chapters this generation. Before people start getting shipped off to college, that is. I was thinking that this would be a shorter chapter (and that I’d have it out mid-september, but hey) even though we all know what I do to short chapters. Wishful thinking on my part.

This is also the last chapter to be primarily focused on Aranel, so you’ll see the other kids in high school too. (At some point, at least…) I actually had to delay playing for quite a bit due to someone’s impending birthday, (Anariel) and the events I had to stage before that happened. And yes, Aranel and Rean’s discussion of politics is a parody of American politics in specific, and politics in general. It’s sims, so why not be ridiculous?

Also, the last few updates have focused a lot on Aranel, and somewhat on Ana, leaving not a lot of room for Achenar, Calla and Elirand. That’s primarily because the three of them are in a pretty comfortable place right now – there’s not a lot of complications going on in their lives.

I still feel like I’m gypping them out of their screentime, though. They are lovely and awesome to play, but currently all that the three of them have been doing in-story is school, some clubs, and hanging out.

Don’t worry, though: they’ll pop back up in later chapters.But this is literally all that happens whenever I play them or try to film them. Occasionally

a townie male will heart-fart Calla, but it’s usually Achenar.

This guy has bunny ears. It didn’t occur to me until I made the shot black and white. There’s a bunch of other things that I slipped in, cookies for everyone who finds some.

Oh, and credit goes to Wikipedia for most of the extra filler text at the sides of the newspapers. I just copy-pasted some overviews to make them look like sims-appropriate filler articles. There appears to be a fierce debate in the Riverblossom Gazette recently about Plant Sims and Dryads. ;)