A/N Strangely, I am not British. But apparently, my computer is, for it is
stuck on U.K. English. Oh well. Shall be helpful when I am an Oxford
Scholar. I am listening to Jewel, writing this, reading Mistress's fic
(incredibly good story, BTW), IMing my friend, am supposed to be doing
homework, and writing this at the same time. I am the QUEEN of
multitasking. Oh, BTW, my AIM is "FangedEvilGenius" AIM me. I got a few
requests for chappies about Will's Daughter, so here we go...Hope you
enjoy. And, yes, 'Livia will go on. I have just superbly busy with
soccer, school, writing my beautiful (soon to be best seller) novel, and
er..doing other stuff. Sorry.
"If you'll BE my babeh!" Mary Parry sat, kicking her size seven feet (in black converse, of course) against the cold metal legs of the chair, with the new Stevie Brock song stuck in her head. 'Damn you, Stevie Brock.' She thought, vowing to get vengeance on whomever moron that had turned on Stevie instead of her normal John Mayer in the morning. I.e., her "amusing" dad. She would think he had better things to do than mess with his only child's head. Ah well, after school she would-
"Miss Parry, what is the square root of 132?" Mary froze.
"Er..seven?" The teacher rolled his eyes dramatically and began to speak, but was (thank the gods above) interrupted by the bell. 'English next' Mary thought. 'Then Social Studies' She hurried to class, only pausing to think about what a horrid waste of time school was, and to-er- eat a bar of chocolate. When she arrived in English, lugging her rucksack, her teacher gave her the Patented Death Stare and Mary hurried to sit down, sliding into her hard blue seat. The teacher went back to her lecture, and Mary began drawing mindlessly. Suddenly, the teacher looked out and the class and announced their homework.
"You are to write a fantasy story. This may be about any subject you wish, and it must be at least ten pages long. Now, I know you are all inwardly groaning, and some of you-" She glared at a boy rolling his eyes in the second row, "Are groaning outwardly. But this is necessary to improve your writing skills, and it is a really fun assignment. I mean, think about all of the things you can write about!" The kids were looking desperately at each other, at a loss for ideas. Mary rolled her kohl outlined eyes and slumped down in her seat. The teacher droned on, but Mary's mind was buzzing, trying hard to think of an idea. Now Mary was okay in smarts, but she had a pretty low grade in English, and her father, an Oxford Professor, was certainly not going to stand for his only child getting a "Fantastic" in English. So a good grade was dearly needed to improve her overall grade. So, she must write the damn story.
Mary hated astronomy. She was quizzing herself for the test tomorrow. Orion.Ursa Major...Ursa Minor..there was another one, too. It begun with an L...Lena? No, something having to do with mythology. Apollo.. Lyre.
"Lyra!" Mary shouted out loud. Her father skittered into the room, sliding on his smooth-bottomed Oxford Loafers. His dark eyes were hard.
"Who told you?" He said, gritting his teeth. She had never seen him this angry. Never seen him angry. She recoiled, backing up. His jawbone jutted out, his eyes, dark brown, were a mixture of grief and pure, white- hot anger.
"My god, dad, I was studying for my Astronomy Test. No one told me nothin'. Lyra is a constellation" She was fearful of him, but also purely curious. What had made him this angry about damn Astronomy? But now she could see him relax, every muscle in his body unclenching.
"Yeah, sorry. Though you said something else." He muttered, shuffling back into his study. Mary flew out of her chair and caught him by the elbow.
"Dad, something made you angry about that. Now I don't know what that was, but I need to find out. Lyra...that sounds like a girl's name." He sat, looked resigned, then said feebly
"Lyra is your middle name. Bet you didn't know that?" He shook her off his elbow and proceeded towards the living room. Mary was livid with anger.
"Damn, dad. You never tell me anything. Why the bloody hell did you get so mad about one bloody word? You're hiding something from me, and I know it! So sit down and tell me, now. You're a bloody Oxford Professor. You're my dad, but you're never around! You're always at the college. You occasionally call Oxford "Jordan" When ever I'm studying astronomy or mythology, whenever I mention 'Lyre', you go livid. Tell me. Now." Will Parry looked calm, but it was obvious he wasn't going to tell Mary anything.
"Mary Parry, don't you dare swear at me. If you are living in my house, I'll tell you what I want." Mary exploded (no, not literally, but that would be kind of funny. Sorry.)
"I wish I wasn't in this bloody family!" And with that, she stormed out of the house.
"If you'll BE my babeh!" Mary Parry sat, kicking her size seven feet (in black converse, of course) against the cold metal legs of the chair, with the new Stevie Brock song stuck in her head. 'Damn you, Stevie Brock.' She thought, vowing to get vengeance on whomever moron that had turned on Stevie instead of her normal John Mayer in the morning. I.e., her "amusing" dad. She would think he had better things to do than mess with his only child's head. Ah well, after school she would-
"Miss Parry, what is the square root of 132?" Mary froze.
"Er..seven?" The teacher rolled his eyes dramatically and began to speak, but was (thank the gods above) interrupted by the bell. 'English next' Mary thought. 'Then Social Studies' She hurried to class, only pausing to think about what a horrid waste of time school was, and to-er- eat a bar of chocolate. When she arrived in English, lugging her rucksack, her teacher gave her the Patented Death Stare and Mary hurried to sit down, sliding into her hard blue seat. The teacher went back to her lecture, and Mary began drawing mindlessly. Suddenly, the teacher looked out and the class and announced their homework.
"You are to write a fantasy story. This may be about any subject you wish, and it must be at least ten pages long. Now, I know you are all inwardly groaning, and some of you-" She glared at a boy rolling his eyes in the second row, "Are groaning outwardly. But this is necessary to improve your writing skills, and it is a really fun assignment. I mean, think about all of the things you can write about!" The kids were looking desperately at each other, at a loss for ideas. Mary rolled her kohl outlined eyes and slumped down in her seat. The teacher droned on, but Mary's mind was buzzing, trying hard to think of an idea. Now Mary was okay in smarts, but she had a pretty low grade in English, and her father, an Oxford Professor, was certainly not going to stand for his only child getting a "Fantastic" in English. So a good grade was dearly needed to improve her overall grade. So, she must write the damn story.
Mary hated astronomy. She was quizzing herself for the test tomorrow. Orion.Ursa Major...Ursa Minor..there was another one, too. It begun with an L...Lena? No, something having to do with mythology. Apollo.. Lyre.
"Lyra!" Mary shouted out loud. Her father skittered into the room, sliding on his smooth-bottomed Oxford Loafers. His dark eyes were hard.
"Who told you?" He said, gritting his teeth. She had never seen him this angry. Never seen him angry. She recoiled, backing up. His jawbone jutted out, his eyes, dark brown, were a mixture of grief and pure, white- hot anger.
"My god, dad, I was studying for my Astronomy Test. No one told me nothin'. Lyra is a constellation" She was fearful of him, but also purely curious. What had made him this angry about damn Astronomy? But now she could see him relax, every muscle in his body unclenching.
"Yeah, sorry. Though you said something else." He muttered, shuffling back into his study. Mary flew out of her chair and caught him by the elbow.
"Dad, something made you angry about that. Now I don't know what that was, but I need to find out. Lyra...that sounds like a girl's name." He sat, looked resigned, then said feebly
"Lyra is your middle name. Bet you didn't know that?" He shook her off his elbow and proceeded towards the living room. Mary was livid with anger.
"Damn, dad. You never tell me anything. Why the bloody hell did you get so mad about one bloody word? You're hiding something from me, and I know it! So sit down and tell me, now. You're a bloody Oxford Professor. You're my dad, but you're never around! You're always at the college. You occasionally call Oxford "Jordan" When ever I'm studying astronomy or mythology, whenever I mention 'Lyre', you go livid. Tell me. Now." Will Parry looked calm, but it was obvious he wasn't going to tell Mary anything.
"Mary Parry, don't you dare swear at me. If you are living in my house, I'll tell you what I want." Mary exploded (no, not literally, but that would be kind of funny. Sorry.)
"I wish I wasn't in this bloody family!" And with that, she stormed out of the house.