11

Summer 2020

New York | Massachusetts

Smackle folded her last article of clothing and placed it inside her luggage, zipping it shut with a satisfied smile. After what seemed like forever, she would be in Massachusetts with Farkle within a couple of hours.

Summer was already coming to an end and classes at Yale were starting soon, so this would be her last chance to spend some time with him before life caught up again. Despite the trip only taking place over the weekend, she still found herself looking forward to it.

Interacting with Farkle through a computer screen had felt considerably different. And while she still struggled with skin ship from time to time, the absence of his little kisses and touches over the past weeks had strangely left her yearning for them.

The girl hoisted her luggage and wheeled it out into the lift that served her family's three-storey penthouse. With it entirely made out of glass, she could see the respective floors whizz by in a greyish blur, a preview of the house's monochromatic interior.

Slowly, the lift came to a stop on the first level, its doors sliding open to let her through. From where she stood, she could hear the faint murmurs of the television playing in the background. It took her a second before she realized how out of place this was, especially in a house that was usually sterile and silent. Her heart started to pound a little faster as the one thought loomed over her head – her parents were home.

Smackle frantically scoured her brain for any special occasion that she might have forgotten, but wasn't able to come up with anything. Her parents had seemingly strayed from their stringent routine for reasons that she neither knew nor wanted to find out about.

As she started to approach them cautiously, she ran through a list of alternate exits in her head. However, the only way out was to go past the living room, right where they were planted.

"Hey mum, hey dad," the girl greeted nervously, stopping just a couple feet away from the sofa.

Calm down, Isadora, she told herself.

It wasn't like she hadn't done this before. In fact, she'd lied to her parents plenty of times over the last four years in high school, coming up with excuses about extra classes or study sessions when really, she was just hanging out with Farkle and his friends. She'd even told them about this trip, citing it as a pre-orientation tour of the school campus. Her parents gobbled it up like they did everything else. As long as it bid well for their daughter's future, nothing was in question.

"Isadora," her mother said, beckoning the girl forward. "Where do you think you're going?"

Smackle could identify the woman's lethal calm from anywhere, and it meant bad news rather than good. She gripped the handle of her luggage tightly as she tried to draw support from its solidity.

"New Haven," she answered. "I have a pre-orientation camp, remember?"

Her father leaned forward, studying her with piercing eyes. "But you don't need a plane ticket to get there, do you? Driving there is faster than flying."

It was evident that he was trying to control his temper. The only thing that was keeping him from yelling through the roof was his wife, who handled the problems at work and home with an icy grip. Still, Smackle would rather face his immediate wrath than endure the prolonged cold of her mother.

"There's no point in hiding the truth from us, Isadora," her mother continued, putting a steady hand over her husband's. "We've traced your ticket to Massachusetts, and we know who you're going to visit."

Farkle's name didn't have to be mentioned for it to ring through Smackle's head loud and clear. The girl found herself at a loss. It had been years. She'd gotten away with this for years. So why now?

"You've been playing us this whole time," her mother shook her head in disappointment. "You didn't ask to be sent to Abigail Adams just so you could increase your competitive streak. You did it because Farkle and his friends were there, and you wanted so desperately to be a part of them."

She said this with so much venom, and it made Smackle sound so…weak.

"But I still did well," the girl found herself protesting.

"Not as well as you would've if you hadn't been distracted."

"I got a scholarship to Yale."

"So did Farkle, and he was the valedictorian!" The woman snapped, her voice rising by a decibel.

He deserved it, Smackle wanted to say, but she managed to bite her tongue back lest she worsened the situation.

Her mother composed herself before pressing her lips into a thin smile. "We're going to need your whole-hearted support if our company is to become as successful as theirs, and we're almost there, Isadora. We just need you to give it the final push."

Smackle dropped her gaze to the floor. This was what she had been her entire life – a pawn used to increase power; a robot made to study her life away till she was deemed worthy enough by her parents.

Smackle Corporations had grown considerably since her days in elementary school, enough even, to make millionaires out of her parents. But they still weren't satisfied. She just wished she didn't enjoy the process of learning so much – it made it that much harder to displease them.

However, she knew that she wouldn't have been able to keep her relationship with Farkle a secret forever. She only hoped that the peace could have lasted a little longer before the truth came to light. And she always believed that it would happen of her own accord instead of being caught red-handed while she was on her way to meet him.

She had been silent up to this point, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge that her mother was right.

"We won't stop you from going," the woman said gently upon seeing the strained look on her daughter's face. "You know we aren't those kind of parents. But," she lifted her steely gaze to meet hers, "I'm certain you'll do the right thing, Isadora."

Smackle immediately averted her eyes. A thousand things were running through her mind – thoughts that she was usually able to pick out and isolate. The one that stood out the most was that she had to leave. Her parents' presence was stifling, while Farkle and his friends were like a breath of fresh air – a chance for her to clear her head.

She took a few steps towards the front door. "If there's nothing else, I'll be on my way," she said quickly just in case her parents decided to change their minds.

All her mother did was to release a small smile, one without any sense of comfort in it. "Have a safe flight, dear," she said.

"I will," Smackle nodded curtly before turning her back on her parents, feeling the weight of their eyes bore into her spine.


The plane ride to Massachusetts was anything but relaxing. As someone who took a logical and methodical approach to everything, Smackle just couldn't understand how her parents managed to find out about Farkle. They'd always known that he played a huge role in her life, but as an enemy and a competitor, not someone she held hands with.

Perhaps she'd been playing the game for so long that she unwittingly grew comfortable in it – so comfortable, in fact, that she let her own guard down. This made her feel slightly embarrassed, for she had always prided herself on her cunning and intelligence. Growing up, she was taught to constantly push her boundaries and challenge herself with new things, fulfilling the old adage that the most precious diamonds are formed under the harshest pressure. To find a sense of comfort and protection was to grow weaker, and that was exactly what happened.

Smackle spent the flight fretting over her next course of action, and in her inner conflict, found two opposing sides slowly come into form. The reason why she had yearned to join Riley and her group of friends was because she wanted to have people care about her, and in turn, understand how it was like to have people to care about. She learnt more about life and love and friendship throughout her four years in high school than she did in the fourteen years before.

The secret of life was that people changed people, and was she a changed girl? Certainly. But her parents were still the same ones who had brought her up to be the ruthless, proud and un-empathising girl she had been. It was proving difficult to reconcile the two.

However, by the time Smackle left the plane and headed towards the arrival hall to meet Farkle, her mind had already been made up.

Efficiency was her speciality, whether she had changed or not.


The moment Smackle strolled out through the sliding glass doors, she spotted Farkle waiting by a pillar with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. Despite wearing a simple polo shirt and jeans, his slightly pinkish skin caused him to stick out of the crowd like a sore thumb.

"Hey there," he said upon catching sight of her, walking forward to dispense the girl of her luggage.

He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, to which she closed her eyes as he did so, relishing in the short moment before his lips were gone and only an imprint of its warmth was left.

"Hi," she answered, her eyes running up and down his sunburnt skin. She playfully prodded his arm, causing him to wince.

"Looks like someone's been living an active lifestyle," she teased.

"This," Farkle gestured towards himself, "is just another reason why Minkuses aren't meant to do sports. Why can't I tan like Lucas?"

"Because you're a scientist, not a sports star," Smackle said as she hooked her arm around his. "Anyway, what's that you've got there?"

The boy's eyes widened, as if he'd forgotten that he was holding onto something. "Right," he laughed, lifting the bouquet up to her. "I know you aren't fond of this stuff, but I just wanted to give you something as a token of my appreciation for being so patient these last couple of weeks."

Smackle snatched the flowers from his hands and gave them a big, long whiff. "Roses," she stated with a smile. "I love them. Thank you, dearest."

Farkle gave her a puzzled look, unsure of how to react to her strange response. In the end, he decided to just brush it off and gave himself a mental pat on the back for thinking of the sweet gesture.

"So," he continued, walking her to the car, "I was thinking that we could go grab some lunch before I show you around the campus?"

The girl flashed him a smile. "That sounds lovely," she said.

Farkle raised an eyebrow upon hearing this, surprised by Smackle's unusual acceptance of his plans. She'd often prepared her own list of activities for their dates, and if not, never failed to have additional inputs on his arrangements. Very rarely did she simply accede to his suggestions. In fact, this might have been a first.

"Hey, is everything alright?" He asked, stopping in his tracks. "Or did something happen while I was away?"

Smackle's head jolted up in alarm. "Of course not!" She scoffed. "Everything's fine. I guess I just…missed you."

Farkle's features relaxed as he took a hold of her hand. Whatever suspicions he seemed to have, had been wiped clean away. "Well, I missed having you around too," he said, pulling her closer to him. "That's why we're going to have this weekend all to ourselves."

The girl shot him a curious look. "Does that mean no Lucas?"

"Well, now that you mention it…he might be joining us for lunch," Farkle admitted, letting out a bashful grin.

As a reflex, Smackle was about to jab him in the side with her elbow when she stopped herself. Whether or not it was because of Farkle's sunburn or the decision that she'd made on the plane, she didn't know.

All she knew was that she planned on fully immersing herself in the present for the next few hours. Then, it would be time to let go.


Smackle and Farkle spent the entire day touring the Harvard campus, visiting the places he would soon begin lessons at and meeting the friends he had made during orientation. Despite having already rented an apartment close to his school, he also went about showing her around the dormitories.

As she walked through the school grounds, she realized that she wasn't as taken away or overwhelmed by the sheer opportunities presented to satiate her intellectual curiosity. Maybe it was because Yale provided her with the same stimulating environment, or maybe it was the thought of never being able to share classes with Farkle again that diluted her excitement.

After all, the two had been a recipe for success in high school, pushing each other to achieve greater heights. And when it came down to the two of them for the title of valedictorian, she knew that Farkle deserved it most, as much as she wanted it for herself.

If she had been anywhere else, earning the honour would have come easy, but at what cost? A less-developed emotional intelligence, which would be severely compounded by her Asperger's. Furthermore, she'd miss out on four years of incredible lessons and adventures.

When Farkle and her stopped fighting to gain the upper hand, they started to view each other as equals, and that gave her more satisfaction than her grades ever did.

Now, they had left the campus and were on their way to dinner at a French restaurant that Farkle had made reservations at. She could hear her luggage bouncing up and down in the empty boot of the car, taunting her constantly of her decision.

"I was looking up on the various research programmes that the school offers, but none of them really seem to interest me," the boy said as he kept his eyes trained on the road before him.

"What are you interested in, then?" Smackle asked, turning to look at him. She traced his side profile with her eyes, taking in every last bit of his relaxed features.

Farkle's eyes twinkled, flickering to meet hers for a second. "I want to create something – a time machine…or artificial intelligence unlike anyone's seen before."

"A Jarvis!" Smackle exclaimed as she snapped her fingers.

"Probably even better than that," Farkle grinned, turning the steering wheel to the right as he pulled into the open-air carpark. "Then you'd be the Pepper Potts to my Tony Stark."

The girl let out a sad smile, knowing that there was no chance of that ever happening. At least for now. She turned to look at Farkle, who after parking the car, had unbuckled his seatbelt and was about to kill the engines when she placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

"What?" He asked, his gentle tone laced with amusement.

Smackle inhaled deeply and felt her breath shake at the weight of her words. They stabbed at her like tiny daggers, digging further into her ribs the more she thought about how she should break the news to him.

She withdrew her hand and looked him squarely in the eyes. "I think we should break up."

Straightforward and to the point – always her style. Pointless beating around the bush just made such moments so much harder to bear. It was easier and less painful to get right around to it.

Farkle's eyebrows knitted together in a tight frown, his eyes breaking away from hers as he struggled to make sense of what she'd said. His mouth opened and closed before he shook his head and said, "I don't understand."

"My parents found out about us, and they're not too pleased about it," Smackle explained.

She watched as a hint of realisation flickered across the boy's face. However, he remained silent, as if deep in thought.

"I'm sorry," Smackle continued, trying to find the right words to justify the reason behind her actions. "It's just that…given the current circumstances, with me going to Yale and you, here…it'd be difficult to go on, especially now that my parents know the truth. It's impossible to convince them otherwise."

Farkle finally looked up to meet her eyes, nodding slowly. "I get it," he mumbled.

"It doesn't mean I love you any less."

"I know."

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"I know."

Smackle bit down on her bottom lip, feeling it tremble beneath her teeth. "Say something, then."

Farkle stared at her with a pained look in his eyes, suddenly reaching out to pull her into a tight embrace. She rested her chin on his shoulder, blinking against the strands of hair that had spilled across her face. Slowly, she brought her arms up and wrapped them around him, wrestling with the memories that came flooding back to her – memories of the first time they hugged at Riley's bay window, the first time they held hands outside Topanga's…the first time they ever shared a kiss.

"I love you, Isadora," he whispered.

Smackle felt herself smile in response. It was nice hearing those three syllables leave his lips. Sometimes she'd forget if he truly loved her too, and then moments like this would remind her again that he did.

He did, but certainly not as much as she loved him. And she knew that he knew it as well.

She pulled away slowly, only to lean forward to kiss him. He was slightly taken aback by this, but immediately regained his senses and pressed against her lips with as much fervour. And when the two finally broke apart, they both stayed quiet for a moment.

"So where do we go from here?" Farkle finally asked, his face illuminated only by the surrounding street lamps.

Smackle glanced at the twinkling lights of the French restaurant further down the street. "I'd stay for dinner," she said, "but I've got a flight to catch at ten."

"Unbelievable," the boy breathed, shaking his head as he broke into a knowing smile. "You had this all planned out, didn't you? And to think I actually believed that you were acting all weird when you agreed to my suggestion this morning."

"You know me," Smackle patted her chest proudly. Her sadness had diminished by a considerable amount upon seeing him smile. "I love having the last say."

Farkle put his seatbelt on and grabbed the steering wheel. "Where to, then, miss?"

Smackle closed her eyes. "The airport."


Soon, they were back where they had started the day, except this time, they were bidding each other goodbye.

Farkle stopped his car at the drop-off point and got out to help Smackle retrieve her luggage from the trunk. It was heavy, filled to the brim with clothes that were surely meant for three days instead of one. The girl must have made the decision at the last minute, and it pained him a little to know that their weekend had been just shy of actually occurring.

The door to the passenger seat opened and slammed shut, with Smackle going over to his side to take her belongings from him. She squared her shoulders and cleared her throat as she stood there regarding him for a moment. Something about the whole thing felt final, and yet somehow, he didn't feel as crushed by it as he should be.

Of course he was upset – it felt like a part of him was leaving. But in spite of this, he also knew that things could have turned out much worse than they did. This was the best possible scenario there could have been, with them here, five years later, separating on good terms as partners in science – equals.

They had known that her parents would eventually find out about them, and deep down inside, Farkle had a hunch that it would end with them going on their respective ways. Asperger's aside, Smackle and him were much alike in intelligence and ambition. They both had big plans ahead of them, none of which included the other. Understanding this made the situation easier to grasp and swallow.

"So," Smackle began, her eyes crinkling into little crescents behind her glasses. "Thanks for helping me get into Yale."

She meant this as a joke, but they both knew that there was a certain truth behind her words.

"And thank you for getting me into Harvard," Farkle said as he returned the smile. "We're still friends, right?"

Smackle gave him a soft nudge. "Hey, I wouldn't have it any other way."

She paused for a short second before turning around to head for the entrance, throwing her hand up in a backward wave.

The boy leant against the car and crossed his arms, watching as she walked further away from him. It was only after she disappeared behind the sliding doors that he realized she'd left her bouquet of flowers in the car. He rushed over to fetch it, but as he picked it up, noticed a white note stuck to it with a message scribbled in her neat handwriting:

Save this for someone better.

All at once, it was like someone had flipped a switch to the flood of emotions that started to crash over him – wave after wave after wave. Smackle had left believing that she was the problem, but she was wrong. It was Farkle who didn't deserve her. She was the one who had to find someone better – not him.

The boy punched the steering wheel, the shrill sound of the car horn echoing through the air in a flash of intense anger.

He'd let her leave before she learnt to love herself. He'd let her leave, but there was no time machine yet built, and no chance of unwinding the clock.


A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for taking such a long time to update. I was on holiday in Japan over the past one week and I didn't bring a laptop with me, so hopefully this chapter makes up for it? c: I'll be switching back and forth between the past and present fairly often as you might have already realized, so this sheds a little insight on Smackle's background as well as how and why they broke up. Also, if their relationship seems to have some parallels to the recent GMPR episode (especially with regards to how they use each other to level-up), it was completely unintentional! I already had three-quarters of the chapter written before it aired and was pleasantly surprised to see some of my characterizations become canon. Heh. That aside, Smackle and her parents will continue to play a role in the coming chapters head. Not! To! Forget! I'm grateful for all the support you guys have been giving this fic! I pretty much have the entire story mapped out, so now it's just a matter of putting it into words :) Just you wait, because everything will fall into place with time! Once again, leave a review if you enjoyed the chapter or if you have anything you'd like to say. And here's little tease of what's coming up next - Smackle asks to meet Riley for brunch. Till then, have a great week ahead guys! :')