Life Series Book 1  Chapter 1: Broken Peace

The Derivative  Chapter 10: Influence

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 9 

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

“In a mood are we?” he asked. 

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

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

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

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

I smiled slightly “thank you” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Alan questioned. 

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

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

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

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

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

“A bomb?!” Alan cut his son off. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He is a planner and she a budding mathematician” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_______

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

__________

3rd POV. 

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

“Did you catch ‘em?” she asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s right,” Don agreed. 

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

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

“None of them?” 

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

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

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

“What about putting them together?” Charlie suggested. 

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

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

Abby straightened behind Don and Larry nodded “game theory” 

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

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

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

“Risk assessment” Abby muttered.

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

_________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Abby questioned her laughter quickly fading. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 11 ->

This! I love when I hear someone say I’m great writer. But I’m inspired by people who comment about the details about a fic I’ve written! What they like about the characters or how they connect. It’s so motivating and simply seeing a comment like this makes my entire day!

THE MISCONCEPTION ABOUT COMMENTING ON FIC

I’ve read all kinds of posts both from writers and readers lamenting about comments on fic. Authors are upset when they don’t get any, readers don’t know what kinds of comments to leave, etc. And it finally clicked in my brain why I think a lot of people don’t bother writing comments. 

And this is what it boils down to:

Writers do not want praise.  We just want to talk about our story. 

I can’t speak for everyone obviously - but I think the majority of writers don’t care so much for the “omg you’re a brilliant writer!!” comments as much as we just want to hear your thoughts on the story. Even if it’s just your thoughts as you’re reading of “oooh x happened! I can’t believe y said this! What’s going to happen now that z has happened?!” We literally just want to talk about what we’ve written like you would with a friend about a tv show. We’re not out here demanding praise like some entitled narcissist. 

While praising our writing skills or writing style is appreciated, it doesn’t need to be said on every fic and every chapter that you read. If you regularly comment on someone’s work that’s telling enough that you like our technique. Readers shouldn’t feel pressured to have to praise a writer’s abilities every time they want to comment. 

In the grand scheme of things, talking about the fic/chapter is actually more helpful to us writers instead of spewing praise. It’s the same with artwork. As nice as it is that people tell me “wow your art is so pretty!” it’s a LOT more useful to me to get comments like “I love their expressions!” or “the lighting on this is gorgeous!” because then I know WHAT people are liking about it. If no one ever comments on my backgrounds, I now know what to improve. If most people comment on liking the expressions, I now know the strong points of my art and can use it to my advantage to make even better art in the future. 

The same goes for fic. If multiple people tell me they liked a certain part of the story I now know that things similar to that are a hit. It’s feedback I can use to improve the story and give my readers more of what they want. Without that I have no idea what they like about the fic.

Talking with a writer about their story also gives them inspiration!! Nothing gets us more in the mood to work on a fic than to have people wanting to talk about it. A lot of times just talking about one of my fics with someone will give me that push to continue working on it. Getting a comment that just says “great chapter” or “you’re a great writer” doesn’t do much to motivate us to continue that particular fic. But if you talk about the story and the characters it gives us motivation to continue working on it, may even give us ideas for future chapters. I would hope that those of you with “comment anxiety” find this approach so much easier than trying to praise the writer every time you read.

So that fic the author hasn’t updated in forever that you’re dying to read? Talk to them about the fic and the elements of the story! It will make the writer want to talk to you about it and will get their mind thinking about it, hopefully inspiring them to continue where they left off. Fics that are left in silence are more likely to be abandoned or even deleted because nothing feels worse than putting your heart into a story to have no one say anything about it. 

TLDR; Writers do not want praise, we just want to talk with our readers about the story itself, and these are the kinds of comments that inspire us to keep writing more. 

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

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

The Derivative  Chapter 8: Sports

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 7

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey could I-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about Don?” Charlie suggested. 

“It’s not my thing” Don objected 

“Oh, you play?” Mike inquired. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” Don murmured heading out. 

______________

3rd POV. 

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

“Are you sure?” the agent asked. 

“Yeah” the man confirmed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” Don nodded. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cliff Howard is the truth,” Bayle insisted. 

______________

Abby POV. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I knew that,” Alan lied. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh here we go” Alan muttered. 

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

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

“Preaching to the choir,” I told him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You done?” Alan asked. 

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

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

3rd POV. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay” Fiona muttered, sounding unsure. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Abby POV.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 9 -> 

fuck it. be creative even if you never really *make* anything. write out plot synopses of stories and then move on. design OCs you'll never use. make mood boards and concept art and don't do anything with them. life's too short to forget everything that inspired you and creation doesn't have to be "complete" to be worth the time you put into it.

I'm the kind of girl who is quite in large groups or around people I don't know; you only see the real me if we're close. I smile and laugh a lot, especially at most inappropriate times. I'm a hopeless romantic. I trip on air, up stairs, and over people's feet. I am the hardest person to offend, but it is all too easy t make me feel horrible. I fate telling people about my problems; they don't need to worry about me. I'm the one who listens to other people's problems. I believe people should not be judged before one takes time to get to know them, yet I am guilty of doing the exact same thing. I love think rather than talk. I'm awkward, clumsy, shy, strange... but this is me. Take it or leave it

-Unknown

Numb3rs: The Derivative

Don Eppes did not see this coming. He was back in LA he was working for the FBI. He had his dad and his brother and his agents. He also had a well earned reputation. This, however, was not something he saw coming. Not the social worker at his door, not the untimely death of his ex-girlfriend, and certainly not the birth certificate the social worker pulled out of his brief case for a teenage girl with Don's name listed under father.

Abby Calvin hasn’t had the easiest of lives. It’s been just her and her mom for as long as she can remember bouncing from hell hole to hell hole and never settling down. Until in one moment her life is changed forever and she’s left all alone. Now she’s living with her father who never even knew she existed, has a grandfather who's wiser than she thinks, and an uncle who might be the first person to understand her brand of genius.

Don and Abby are stuck in each others lives now and their path is far from normal but they have each other and they have their family. So, they might just make it through.

It’s Here -> Chapter 1

Everyone should know the international sign for Help Me. Let’s make this famous!!