The ACU acceptance letter came quickly through the post. The fact that it came through the post surprised Louise.
"Why would the Assassins send a letter with this amount of importance by the post?" Louise's constantly skeptical father wondered aloud, pacing back and forth.
"Perhaps," said Louise, sitting her neurotic father down in a wicker chair on the patio, "any other way else would draw too much attention."
"Attention from who?" her father scoffed, trying to force his way past Louise who was looming over his chair so he could get back up and continue to pace. Louise shoved him back down.
"Woah!" her father said, resentfully staying in his chair. "No wonder the Assassins accepted you. You're good."
At that, Louise smiled a flashy smile at her father as though to say, gee, thanks. Although it was a compliment, yes, her father said it in such a way that could lead one to believe he said it sarcastically. Louise sat herself down in a wicker chair across from her father and leaned back, prepared to think.
"When do they expect you to be there?" her dad asked her, breaking her fragile train of thought that went along the same lines as that of which her father just said. Louise glanced back at the paper they got, skimming over for a date anxiously.
"I don't see a date," she said, leaning over the coffee table to hand the letter to her father.
Again, her father scoffed.
"No date?" he mocked. "Bad Assassins. Do they just expect you to get there instantly? Teleportation, perhaps?"
"Father, please, they're the Assassins."
"Assassins who can't be bothered to put the expected arrival date on their University acceptance papers!" her father retorted, letting the paper fall on to the coffee table. He leaned back in his chair and let out a heavy sigh.
Louise glanced around the yard of their home, wondering if it would be the last time she would ever see the Harley home in a while. She, too, let out an exasperated sigh. She's gotten accepted to the Assassin's University. Now what?
"What about Mother?" Louise finally asked, breaking the dense ice between her and her father.
Mr. Harley's face softened a bit as he leaned forward to stroke his daughter's cheek.
"Is she okay with this?" asked Louise. Her father's hand dropped, and the faint smile on his face faded. He exhaled through his nose.
"She isn't happy, Louise, and you know she isn't." Mr. Harley left it at that for Louise to think about for a couple moments.
"Any word from UTO?" Louise finally said.
"University of the Templar Order," her father said wistfully, a faraway gleam in his eyes. "Aah, yes, the UTO."
"...Father!" Louise yelled, awaking her father from his daydream state of UTO. His head snapped around to look at her, his face flustered.
"What!" he replied, equally as loud, having clearly forgotten the previous question of Louise's.
"Have you or Mother heard anything from them?" she asked.
"Who? From who? Is this a boy you like?" The skepticism in her father came back out. "Do I need to talk to this young man?" Mr. Harley peered at his daughter, a firm set in his jaw. He unrolled his sleeve to reveal a large bulk of muscle.
Louise laughed.
"No, Father!" she cried over her roar of laughter.
"Oh, really, Louise? I bet it is." Her father leaned back in his chair, his sleeve still unrolled.
Louise's mother, Mrs. Harley, angrily emerged from the house and on to the back patio.
"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, crossing her arms. She specifically eyed Louise and Mr. Harley's unrolled sleeve.
"Nothing," chimed Louise nervously. Now it was Mr. Harley's turn to laugh, only it was more of a hard chuckle.
"Louise is awaiting a message from her lover," he recounted to his wife, nudging Louise from across the coffee table. Her mother raised an arched eyebrow.
"No, not really," she told her mother. Her mother frowned as the eyebrow returned down, level to the other one. Louise let out an unhappy sigh.
Her mother had never trusted her ever since she applied to ACU. "It's just a backup plan," Louise would assure her, even though she secretly wanted to be an Assassin very badly like her father. "Just in case the Templars don't accept me."
"They'll accept you," her mother would snap back in return. "I am firm on it."
Louise's mother grabbed her by the shoulders, standing her up from her comfy spot on the wicker chair and stared in to Louise's eyes. Louise tried to stare back equally as determined as her mother, but the piercing green eyes of her mother made it hard.
Suddenly, Mrs. Harley broke the intense staring contest and wrapped her daughter in to a hug. The hug was nice, yes, but Louise was anxious, so she pulled away after a bit. She settled back down in the wicker chair, and Mr. Harley pulled up the wooden stool from under the coffee table for Mrs. Harley.
"So," a nicer, calmer Mrs. Harley said as she eased down to the low wooden stool. "What was this really about?"
"Well—" Mr. Harley began, but Louise cut him off before he could go on about the nonexistent lover of Louise.
"I was asking if anything was to be heard from UTO," she said quickly, running her father's sentence over with her own.
Mrs. Harley's calm, smiling face went a dark, deep frown. Clearly this was not a subject she enjoyed speaking about, but it had to be done.
"Their answer will be arriving shortly," she said, her voice like sleet falling down.
"What makes you so sure?" Louise challenged under her breath. Unfortunately, however, her mother heard.
"What makes me so sure?" she mocked. "What makes me so sure? I know, Louise. The Templars are dependable." She shot a stoney glance at her Assassin husband. "They will answer us with an acceptance letter in no time."
The whole group nodded, Mrs. Harley included. Suddenly, though, a thought came to Louise's mind, one she hadn't thought about until then.
"If both universities accept me—"
"And they will," snapped her mother. Louise gave her a look and continued.
"—which school will I go to?"
The air went quiet. A bird chirping in the yard had suddenly stopped. The noises of the neighbors suddenly dimmed down to nothing. Her parents said nothing, too.
She studied their faces. Both of their faces were firm, stoney, and hard, but with little touches that gave away their real attitude towards the matter. Her father's face, though looking deadset-on what? My, on what else? Getting his daughter to Assassin's University!-also hinted that he was uncomfortable.
That she could understand. Her father was competing with his wife. Although he pertained amazing Master Assassin abilities, Mrs. Harley had... well, control. Control over her husband, the house, Louise. Everything.
Next, Louise shifted her gaze to her mute mother. Her stone-hard expression had its faults, too. The slight upcurve of her lips and hint of an arch in her eyebrows showed it all. She was determined to get Louise to UTO, and was prepared to be devious and devilish to do so.
Randomly, as though all at once, the noise of life continued. The bird in the yard, who apparently found a friend, started chirping again, this time, louder. Screams of children playing tag and running around filled the air, and street traffic roared to life.
Everyone was noisy. The quick and unexpected transition from quiet and motionless to loud and moving surprised Louise. Everything was good again! But then she noticed it. It was a smack in the face for her.
Her parents glared at each other, and it seemed as though they were the only ones who didn't make any noise. Even Louise's wicker chair creaked against the patio floorboards as she shifted nervously in it.
"Guys?" she peeped. No reply, or even a glance at her. "Mother?" Her mother did nothing but fix Mr. Harley with a stare. "Father?" Her father did likewise, although his ears perked up at the sound of his name.
"Anyways..." Louise tried to begin, but the words just hung in the air, the very still air on the patio, even though the air around them was lively and rambunctious.
Finally, her mother turned, looking at Louise as she scraped back her stool and stood, brushing off her clothing.
"You're going to the Templars," she declared loudly. So loudly that some nearby children over the fence peeked their heads over to see what was happening.
Louise recoiled a bit at the loud noise of it, and began to color as the staring eyes of the children through the fence gaps and over the hedges all focused on her.
Mrs. Harley turned and reentered the house, slamming the door shut behind her. Louise could have sworn she heard the bolts slip in to place, too. The peeking children dispersed, no longer interested and went about with their days.
She turned to look at her father, to her dismay, stood up, too. Everyone was leaving the patio. Everyone who could, and Louise happened to fall in to the category of those who could not. She felt glued to the wicker chair, her hands clammy and strands of her auburn hair stuck to the sweat on her face.
Her father had left, entering around the front, not even going to try the probably bolted backdoors. It was just Louise on the patio now, and finally, she decided, instead of trying to fight it, the extreme wave of tiredness that had hit her, she might as well join it. Allow it.
She curled up in the patio chair, bringing her knees to her chest and turning to lean against the chair's back with her side, watching the crumbling and holey leaves fall off the trees that backed her house until she fell asleep.