Sometimes a girl needs her grandmother to set her straight...

Sighing softly, Michael-Vincent tried to placate his agitated wife as she sat on the sofa. "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for this…"

"I doubt it." Inhaling deeply to control her anger, Christine shook her head as she read the message again. "Ms. Rosenberg, Joy's academic counselor, was quite succinct. Our daughter has not been working up to her potential in any of her classes this semester. This is so unlike her...Joy has always been such a good student..."

"What...does she have a B in Art or something?" He looked over his wife's shoulder to read what was on the screen. "I'm sure it's no big deal…"

Scowling up at her husband, Christine let out an frustrated scoff. "I wish it were as simple as that. Joy has a D in Spanish, a D in Language Arts, and an F in Geography, of all things. She's always loved Social Studies. She's barely making C's in Algebra and in Physical Science..."

"Oh, wow...let me see that…" He glanced through his daughter's grades on the school's education management program. "Well, here's the trouble...look at all of these missing assignments! What has she been doing in class?" Crossing his arms over his chest, he glared at the information on the tablet. "And now I wonder what she's been doing during her study time instead of her homework. We're going to have to supervise her much more closely in the future…"

"I agree." Christine frowned as she closed the program. "I was hoping she could handle the transition to middle school without us having to push her every step of the way, but it seems I've badly misjudged her maturity level. Her work ethic seems to have evaporated with the onset of puberty..."

"Well, let's get her down here and she what she has to say for herself. Seeing his wife's nod of approval, he walked over to the stairs. "Joy...I need you to come downstairs right now. Your mother and I want to talk to you."

An exasperated sigh filtered down the stairs, followed by a loud groan as Joy slouched into the family room. She slumped down on a chair, rolling her eyes at her parents. "Well? What is it? I'm busy…"

"Evidently not 'busy' enough!", Christine began loudly. "Your school counselor has been in touch with us…"

Michael-Vincent held up his hand to calm his wife. "Joy...we've received some disturbing information from your counselor, and we're concerned about your grades.", he said quietly. "It seems as if you've hit a snag in your coursework. Are you having trouble understanding what's being taught?"

"Mrs. Rosenberg? That crazy old woman needs to mind her own business." The girl's lower lip jutted out in a sullen pout. "Of course I 'understand' that ridiculous garbage they're teaching us, Dad. I just don't need to know anything they're trying to teach me, so I've decided not to learn any of it. I also don't think I need to make good grades simply to prove to my teachers or to you that I know some worthless facts. If it's important, I'll retain it. Otherwise, I'll just ignore it." Pleased to see her parents were suitably shocked, she checked her nails before rising from the chair. "Is there anything else? I want to get back to my game…I'm on level 8..."

"Yes, there is something else. Sit down!" Inhaling deeply, her father was trying desperately to remain composed. "What do you mean...worthless facts? Why do you think you don't need to know anything they're 'forcing you to learn' at school? You've always loved school, Joy…"

"I mean I won't need any of them in my chosen profession. I'm going to produce online graphic novels with my friend Natalie when I grow up. She's going to illustrate, and I'm going to write the stories. There are a lot of online publishers that are looking for new talent…they pay well, too. We'll be famous...and rich."

"But you'll still need a college education." Christine shook her finger at her daughter. "Besides, you're only 12. You can't possibly to know what you want to do for a career…"

"Grammy said she knew what she wanted to do for a job when she was my age." Joy shrugged insolently. "I don't see why I can't know what I want to do already. But leave it to you, Mom...always raining on my parade with your logic and reason. You're so sanctimonious...pushing me to achieve your version of 'perfection'. " She made sarcastic air quotes. "You always have to ruin my plans, don't you? I think you live merely to crush my dreams."

Christine was visibly upset. "Oh, Sweetheart...you know that's not true...I just think it would be wise to have a backup plan…surely you know how rapidly online publishing is changing..."

"Yeah, I get it. Whatever. You think I'm gonna be a failure at being a writer, so I'd better hit the books like a good little drone." Sniffling, the preteen wiped away the tears that were beginning to run down her cheeks. "This is all your fault, anyway, Mom! Why do I have to be so smart? Why do I have to take advanced classes designed for separating nerds from the rest of society? Is it to make you happy? Maybe I don't want to do that! Maybe I want to be ordinary! I just want to be a normal kid, okay? I want to be just like everyone else! I'm tired of everyone teasing me...of them picking on me because they think I like being better than them at school stuff. Did you know that Cade Farley calls me 'a brainiac'? All of his friends think that's hilarious, so now they call me that, too. They think I like to show off how smart I am! Well, I don't! I just want to be average...and do average things, like most average girls my age do! I don't want to spend hours on homework just because you think that's what I should do! Why is that so hard to understand? I want to blend in, not stand out." She shrugged away her mother's comforting hand. "I hate you! Just leave me alone, okay?" Wiping her nose with the back of her hand, Joy rose from the chair and ran up the stairs to her room.

Glancing at his wife, a stunned Michael-Vincent pursed his lips slightly. "Hmm...that went well, didn't it?

Christine exhaled slowly. "That definitely wasn't what I expected."

Oooooooooo

"I don't know what to do, Mom." Christine set a mug of steaming herbal tea in front of her mother before joining her at the kitchen table. "Joy seems to have completely given up on her schoolwork. She's become defiant, too. I never thought my sweet little girl would turn into such a hellion…"

Patting her daughter's hand, Brennan smiled as she sat back in her chair. "Surely you realize that defying one's mother is a rite of passage...that it's part of growing up. Don't you remember shaving the sides of your head bald so you could emulate your favorite singer? I was not happy about that…"

"Yeah, and Dad came unglued, didn't he?" Christine chuckled softly as she stirred her tea. "But that was different. That didn't affect my grades at school…and Joy is so smart. I hate to see her fail…"

"You're correct...Joy is extremely intelligent. That's why she's chosen to rebel against your authority by getting poor grades. She knows how much that bothers you." Sipping her tea, the anthropologist shrugged. "It seems she is right…"

"So...what? I should just let her make bad grades? You never did that...I always did well in school. I always had to toe the line." Christine was horrified. "...and how she does this year will determine her placement for next year…and in high school..."

"You should encourage her to do her best, of course, but perhaps you should put less emphasis on the grade she receives and more on what she's learning." Seeing Christine's confusion, Brennan sighed softly. "As an anthropologist, I know humans are pack animals. We want to belong to our group. As a child begins to mature, the struggle between achieving individuality while still being part of the group can be quite unsettling, especially with the onset of puberty. Even while she's rebelling, I imagine she's still soaking up knowledge, although her percentages may not indicate to what extent. I'd suggest you set a standard for her to achieve, with rewards for success and consequences for failure, and then let her figure things out on her own without prodding her too much. Now is the time for her to learn how unpleasant failure can be, before she goes to high school." She took another sip of tea. "Am I correct in assuming Joy has a crush on a young man in her class?"

"I think so...she mentions a boy named Cade on a regular basis…and I guess he's been teasing her about being so smart." Christine's brows knit as she realized what her mother was telling her. "So you're saying it's normal for her to act like this?"

"To some extent, yes. She has to test the limits to learn what is acceptable. Your job is to set those limits. I'm sure you've established protocols for how to handle her disrespect…"

"You mean like taking away all of her privileges? Definitely." Christine grinned as she got up to fix another cup of tea. "Her father and I were adamant about that, and about her improving her grades. I believe Joy got the message."

"Good."

They sat in a pleasant silence for a few minutes until Christine cleared her throat. "Mom? How did you figure it out? I mean, how did you know how to deal with Hank and me?"

"A lot of it came from practical experience. I made a lot of mistakes, and I learned from them, and your father helped, too. I watched him as he parented Parker. He is an excellent father." Brennan smiled as she set her mug down. "Unfortunately, there are no hard and fast rules for parenting. No matter what you learn from this situation with Joy, it may not apply to Seeley or Max. You just have to figure it out as you go along." She rose from her chair and picked up the old photo album from its spot on the counter. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to go talk to my grandchild."

Christine grimaced slightly as she finished her tea. "Good luck with that...I can't get more than two words out of her…"

"Well, sometimes grandmothers have a knack that parents may not have. We'll see…"

Oooooooooo

Tapping softly at the door, Brennan peeked into the room. "Hello...may I come in?"

"I guess." Joy lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Did Mom send you up here to scold me about school?"

"No, I came of my own accord." She sat down in a small chair by the bedroom's window. "I want you to tell me about the graphic novel you're writing."

"Really?", Joy said in surprise as she sat up to stare at her grandmother. "You don't strike me as the graphic novel type, Grammy."

Brennan shrugged as she grinned at the girl. "I enjoy many different genres of literature."

"I'm not sure comic books actually qualify as literature…", Joy giggled. "They're mostly just for fun…"

"Nonsense. I'm sure you're aware of the impact comic book characters have had on American culture. For example, take Superman…or any of the other characters invented by Stan Lee..."

Not wanting to listen to a lengthy lecture on cultural anthropology at that exact moment, the preteen coughed softly as she walked over to her desk and accessed her tablet. "Do you want to read what I've written for our newest book?"

"Of course!" Walking over to the desk, Brennan stood next to the girl's chair. "What is the main character's name?"

"Halia. She's a law enforcement officer from the planet Xeron in the Andromeda Galaxy, and she's come to Earth to seek Randon, an escaped criminal who's a shapeshifter. Earth is a great place for him to hide because of our varied flora and fauna...he can blend in easily and hide almost anywhere. While she's looking for Randon, she meets a cute FBI agent named Cade, and they begin working together…"

"The plot for your story sounds quite involved...very impressive." Brennan grimaced slightly as she read what her granddaughter had written. "However, I must say...your punctuation and spelling could use some work…"

"What? Oh, that...well, I'm just trying to tell a story right now…" Turning to face her grandmother, Joy was surprised to see her grandmother's slight scowl. "What's wrong?"

"If you want a publisher to take you seriously, Joy, you must present your story at its very best from the beginning. An editor might still have suggestions, but they are more likely to be interested in your story if it has fewer flaws. If they have to spend a lot of time figuring out what you mean, they'll probably reject your manuscript, no matter how good your content is." She pointed to the screen. "I'm assuming your heroine must be subject to Earth's laws of physics instead of those of her home planet. You'll want to explain how she has to adapt her powers to Earth. As I'm sure you know, things you've learned in Science can apply to your story as well."

"I guess I never thought about that, Grammy. Halia would have to adapt...and that would be interesting, wouldn't it? Trying to explain that...in fact, that gives me an idea for a new installment…about how Halia learns to live on Earth..."

"Good...I'm glad I could help." Turning toward the window, Brennan picked up the old photo album. Turning to a page in the book, Brennan pointed out a picture. "Look...here's a picture of me with my first best seller. Maybe you'll have pictures of yourself with your books someday...if they make an actual printed copy of them, that is."

"I'd like that a lot." Joy leafed through the album, studying her grandmother's publicity portraits intently. "How many books have you written, Grammy?"

"Twenty novels about Kathy Reichs, and several anthropology textbooks." She pointed to a picture that had been taken in her old office at the Jeffersonian. "This is one of my favorite pictures. Do you see that small object there on my desk?"

"You mean that little blue thing? What is that?" Joy's nose was scrunched up as she squinted at the picture. "It's not very pretty…in fact, it's kind of ugly..."

"On the contrary...it's quite beautiful." She smiled gently as she pulled Joy close. "Your Pops gave that to me at dinner one evening, many years ago. I'd told him a silly story about a boy I'd had a crush on in high school. I'd wanted this boy to like me back, but he'd made fun of me. Instead of giving me the little cartoon figurine I'd wanted...the cute girly Smurf...he'd gotten me a different one to tease me about how smart I was."

"That was mean! Why do kids have to pick on smart people? That's just rude…" Joy wiped away a tear. "Cade teases me about being smart a lot…"

"You're right...it is mean. Anyway, I'd told Pops that the boy had hurt my feelings when I was in high school, and it upset him a little bit, I think, so he brought me that figurine...Brainy Smurf...because he said I was pretty and smart. Basically, he was saying I shouldn't worry about what anyone else thinks of me, because he liked me just as I was. Pops has always been impressed with how smart I am...he says he loves that about me."

"Did Pops ever tease you about being so smart?", Joy asked quietly as she nestled against her grandmother.

"He did at first...just a little...but he soon grew to appreciate how smart I am when he realized how much it helped us to do our work for the FBI." Brennan closed the album and gave her granddaughter a hug. "I know it's not easy being as smart as you are, Joy. Unfortunately, I think our society sometimes puts more value on things that are considered 'normal', and being a genius makes you 'abnormal' in some respects, so naturally you stand out in the crowd. Some people may even be afraid of how smart you are. However, you can't really change that about yourself, no matter how hard you to try to hide it. You need to embrace it, instead, and be proud of your intellect. You shouldn't have to change to get people to love you. You need to find people who appreciate you for your intelligence...people who don't want you to change, because they love you just the way you are. That's what I did...and that's why I married Pops."

Joy was silent for a few minutes, pondering what her grandmother had said. "I guess lately I've been pretty awful to Mom and Daddy, haven't I? It's not really their fault that kids at school tease me..."

"Perhaps, but you're an intelligent young woman. I'm sure you'll figure out how to make amends." Brennan gave Joy a knowing look. "I'd suggest starting with an apology and a concerted effort to improve your grades. And if the kids at school still bother you, you should tell your parents or your counselor. They can't help you fix a problem if they don't know the problem exists."

"Good idea." Joy gazed into her grandmother's clear blue eyes with curiosity. "Do you really like my stories?"

"They show great promise." Brennan rose from the chair. "I expect you to become famous...but I think perhaps you should work on them only after you've finished your homework."

"Okay. Thanks, Grammy…" Joy gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"You're welcome, Joy."

Brennan closed the door behind her, smiling as she carried the album downstairs. When she got back to her apartment, she was going to dig out her Brainy Smurf figurine. Perhaps it was time to give him a new home.

Thanks for reading. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it.