Disclaimer: I do not own Meet the Robinsons, or for that matter, anything you recognize in this. Nor do I own Olivia or her Viking story. Olivia is based on a real person, and her Viking story is one that said person actually did write.

Wilbur walked the halls of the school alone, already hating it. Why did his dad have to move to this stupid town? He was perfectly fine back home, where he had friends and the teachers weren't total jerks and the kids didn't ignore his existence. He sighed as he walked up to his next class.

Great, he thought. I hated Science before, and no doubt this'll be the worst class yet by the way things are going…

His thoughts were discontinued by the late bell. Sighing again and scowling at the noisy class, he sat down at the only empty seat in the class, next to a tall girl writing down furiously in a notebook.

As he sat down in his seat, Wilbur extended his hand. "Hi, I'm Wilbur."

The girl looked up from her notebook and stared down at his hand. She shook it. "I'm Olivia."

The teacher tried starting class, but after a few minutes of trying to settle down the class, gave up and sat down. Wilbur laughed a little bit. Maybe he'd be able to get away with not doing any work for once. He looked to the side at Olivia, who was once again writing quickly in a small notebook. She felt his gaze on her and looked up.

"Yes?" she asked, moving a piece of hair out of her face.

"I was wondering what you were writing. It seems pretty interesting by the look of it."

Olivia shook her head a bit and closed the notebook. "It's not."

"Well, what are you writing about?"

"It's just some story I'm writing. Nothing special."

Wilbur lifted the cover of the notebook an inch before Olivia slammed it back down. "Don't. Its nothing special. Really."

Wilbur kept his eyes and hands on the notebook cover. "I still want to see it. What's the story about?"

"Vikings."

Wilbur held back a laugh, and somehow disguised it as a cough. "Vikings?"

Olivia nodded, keeping a straight face.

"Well, then I defiantly want to read it."

"No you don't."

"How do you know? Maybe I happen to really like Vikings, and maybe I'm having a bad day, so maybe reading someone's Viking story will be good thing, and maybe I'll find a way to read it anyway."

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Nothing. Special."

"Maybe not." Wilbur tried to lift the cover of the notebook again, and succeeded in taking it. He watched her from the corner of his eye as he opened the book up and started reading it. And as soon as he did, he smiled. She was an amazing writer, and her story was so smooth and poetic, but had an adventurous tone to it, and Wilbur soon found he hadn't taken his eyes off the book until he came to a blank page. He put the book down in from of Olivia, who was sitting with her head down and hair covering her face.

"You didn't finish," Wilbur said, wondering if she heard him over the other students' chatter.

"I know," said Olivia, looking up at Wilbur through thick pieces of her dark brown hair.

"You should keep writing it. It was good." Wilbur mentally kicked himself for saying that. It was more than good. Her story was so well-written, he wouldn't have been surprised to have seen it published and in a bookstore somewhere.

"It wasn't. It's terrible," she said in a low voice, looking at away.

Wilbur moved his head so he could look at her. "I'm serious. It was great."

Olivia opened her mouth to respond, most likely to say something about how bad her story was, but was interrupted by the bell. She closed her mouth and picked up her notebook, putting it in her backpack.

Wilbur did the same and got out of his seat. He looked back at Olivia. "What's your next class?"

Olivia put her backpack on and walked after him. "Um, Language Arts, with Mr. Rossi."

Wilbur frowned for a fraction of a sentence, but hid it by looking down at his schedule, even though he already had it memorized. "Oh, I've got Geometry next." He looked up, and for a minute he could have sworn he'd seen her look disappointed.

But she just smiled and waved at him as she prepared to turn to the opposite hallway. "See you later?"

Wilbur smiled and nodded back. "Hopefully." He watched her walk away, thinking about how pretty her blue eyes were.

Dinner at the Robinsons' was always crazy, but today it wasn't. There were still unpacked boxes everywhere, and for some reason, most of the family was gone. Even Carl wasn't at the table, which only made Wilbur sulk over his spaghetti even more. He hated having dinners with just him, his dad, mom, and adoptive sister. It definitely didn't help that he'd just had the worst day at school ever, either.

"So how was your day, Wilbur?" Franny asked, getting Wilbur to look up from his plate.

"Fine. Completely, and totally fine." He stabbed his meatball a couple of times before stuffing it into his mouth.

"He's lying, mom. His day sucked. He wouldn't stop talking about it the entire walk home," said Tiny.

"Shut up, Tiny. Way to keep a secret." Wilbur glared at her.

Tiny shrugged. "It's not a secret, and if it is, it's a really stupid one."

Wilbur stood up in his seat and pushed his plate away. "It wasn't all bad. But you wouldn't know that. You kept interrupting me with how awesome everyone at school is."

Tiny did the same and crossed her arms. "That's because I was tired of hearing you complain about how awful it is, when all you had to do was focus on the positive and talk to someone, instead of sit in a corner and ignore everyone."

"I didn't ignore everyone."

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I'll have you know I did talk to someone. A girl, actually. A really pretty, real girl who writes really well." Wilbur blushed and smiled, much to his surprise.

And, much to his surprise again, he couldn't think of any reason to go back to school the next day. He needed to see her. Soon.

Author's Note: Hi, here's my first ever published fanfic! :D It needs some working on, but for now, I'd say it's okay. Please review, it would be very much appreciated J Of course, flames would be even better. So flame away!