Chapter 2: Girl Meets Believing

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or settings of Girl Meets World. I do, however, own the characters of Remigius "Remy" Bellamy and his mother Maribeth Bellamy. I seek no profit from this act of fiction, merely recognition from the community of readers. I certainly hope you all enjoy.

Thanks to everyone who read last chapter. I'm trying to ease into this story with the emotions, so I hope I don't get too heavy handed with it. Reviews are always welcome, so please do.

Amidst the ruckus and rumble of the cafeteria, Remy, Lucas, and Farkle sat and waited for their usual female companions to join them. Remy and Lucas were comparing things that New York had that their old homes did not. Moments later, their arrival was marked with Farkle's trademark call.

"Ladies." The young man said, pointing at both Maya and Riley with a cheesy grin. It was hard to believe that had been their greeting since childhood. Time sure did fly.

"Farkle." The girls said in unison as they sat down, one on each side of him, Riley sitting next to Lucas and Maya directly across from Remy. It had been a little over a month since he had moved to their school, but he was quickly assimilated into the group. Where they went, so did he. He and his guitar had become the soundtrack to their school lives, and it was something that gave them all a chuckle to realize.

"Hi." Riley said with a familiar, girlish innocence as she looked at Lucas. "Hey" was his reply, coated in a texas accent and charm.

"Music man." Maya said as she looked across the particle board table at their newest friend, a smirk crossing her lips. She couldn't place why, but he could always bring that out in her. Maybe this was how Riley felt looking at Ranger Rick, or maybe it was still just the excitement of change. Whatever it was, she hoped it didn't stop any time soon, but also that it wasn't too obvious.

"Heartbreaker" He smirked as well, looking into her blue eyes with a full smile. He looked down the length of the table and saw everyone beginning to unpack their lunches while he sat with his hands folded.

"What's wrong...why aren't your taking out your rucksack of wonder? No gator meat today?" Maya jabbed at him as she noticed his sudden lack of a meal. She unfolded the aluminum foil that covered her tuna melt that her mother had made and pulled out the bag of chips that Shawn must have snuck in at the last minute. Everyone had something, except for their resident musician.

"Nope, nothing today." He answered rather simply. "Why not?" The whole table answered in unison, genuine concern laced with their words. "Well…" he said, trailing off for just a moment.

[Earlier That Day]

The air was crisp and clear as the October sun was beginning its ascent into the deep purple skies of dawn. Remy pulled his ringing phone from his pocket and smiled as he swiped to answer.

"Hey Momma. Sorry I wasn't there when you got up. I had to head out to catch the right subway car for school and I didn't want to wake ya." He said softly and sweetly into the small mobile phone.

"It's okay. You're a sweet boy. Did you eat anything before you left? You know you need your energy for school. Are you enjoying yourself at this new place?" His mother's voice spoke, heavy with sleep as she still shook off her slumber from moments before.

"I ate some oatmeal before I left, yeah. You know, I am enjoying myself. It's very different from back home. The students are so much more open, the teachers encourage forward thinking, I have a guitar instructor that knows more than just "Free Bird" and "Ode to Joy". And I have friends...it's a good feeling. What about you...how is this place making you feel?" He said as he reached the staircase for the station. He paused a moment to finish his brief morning conversation with her.

"I'm feeling it. Everyone is trying their very best. I can hear a lot of commotion on your end, you must be getting close to the station. Have a good day at school son. I love you. Remember, do good." She smiled as she spoke to her son. It had been hard, the last 7 years with just the two of them, but they were making do. This move was as much for him as it was for her. Though he was born and raised there, Louisiana was never going to be the place where he would prosper, and Maribeth knew that. Hearing him talk about his classes, and his friends, and how much he was actually learning and feeling challenged, it brought an unexplainable joy to her.

"Yeah, I'm here. I love you too Momma. Have a good day. Remember to smile." He said, hanging up the phone and sliding it back into the pocket of his deep, navy blue jeans. The crisp air called for a change in attire, trading his favorite denim jacket for a black hooded sweater with orange stripes down the sleeves and his black jeans for traditional blues. His band shirts remained, today wearing a Journey one, his guitar case and backpack over his shoulders as usual.

He stepped down the stairs and looked around the platform. He saw a man, beard and hair matted and tangled, holes in his jeans, and a small bowl sitting next to him with a sign that read "Hungry, Tired, but Grateful". Remy pulled his wallet out, paused for a moment, and put it back. He reached for his backpack and tugged at the zipper, pulling a green rucksack out of the now opened hole. He opened the pouch, pulling out a sandwich he had packed the night before. He also yanked the small water bottle out and walked over, putting them at the stranger's feet. The vagabond smiled up at the young man and did the sign for "thank you". Remy simply nodded and put his things away.

His mother always said the same thing every morning. "Remember, do good." At first, when he was younger and didn't understand what the real meaning behind the phrase, he always corrected her "You mean do well." and she would always say "No, I said what I meant and I meant what I said. Do good." and she would shoo him out of the car and off to his classes. As time drew on, he grew frustrated at not understanding her improper english...until he saw her give a homeless man the food she had just bought from a local Shake Shack. "Why did you do that Ma?" He asked her. "Because, sometimes there are people who need things more than you, even if you just made or bought those things. To give it to them...that is to do good." She smiled, and he smiled as he finally understood what she meant every morning. From that day forth, he tried his best to do good every day, big or small. His mother believed that everyone was capable of doing good, if they believed in it...and sometimes, it just meant having someone believe in you to make you believe.

The subway car rolled into the station and Remy boarded slowly, looking back one more time to the vagabond who had already taken a big bite out of the sandwich. A grin broke his lips as he watched the doors close and obscure his view of the homeless man.

[End of Flashback]

He finished telling them about the subway this morning, accenting it with one final sentence. "So yeah, I had a lunch packed. A sandwich, not too different from your's actually. I gave it to someone who needed it a lot more than I ever could." He said, remembering the smile on the face of the less fortunate man.

"Wow. That was...really big of you Remy." Riley said, shocked that someone their age would give up their own meal just to feed someone they didn't even know.

"Yeah, that wasn't what I expected at all." Maya said, looking down at her tuna melt and then back up at him. "Do you want to share my tuna melt?" She said, pushing half the sandwich toward him, part of her hoping he would say yes just so that he would have something to eat while another hoped he would so that they would be sharing a meal together. What does that matter? He just needs some food. It doesn't mean anything if he says yes...does it? She thought as she saw his hand reach for the spongy white bread and picking it up.

"I'd really like that Maya. Thank you." He said, taking a bite and nodding. He swallowed what was in his mouth before he spoke to Riley. "I appreciate the kind words, but it was just doing what I felt was right. Ya know, in life all I'm trying to do is to do good." He mused as he took another bite of the tuna melt.

"You mean do well." Farkle said, correcting his friend's english.

"No...I meant what I said and I said what I meant." He chuckled, remembering once again all the times his mother said those exact words to him.

"You sure there Bayou Boy, because I think Farkle is right." Maya quipped, knowing the english was wrong.

"I meant what I said and I said what I meant." He answered again, taking a final bite out of his half of the sandwich and getting up from the table to go grab a drink. He looked over his shoulder at the group, nodding his head softly. Sometimes, to believe, it just takes someone believing in you. He walked back to the table with a bottle of water and simply chuckled at everyone talking about different things. Riley and Lucas were talking about their current assignment for Mr. Matthews class about The 100 Year War, Farkle was looking through his Chemistry AP textbook, and Maya was looking down at a piece of paper and mumbling.

"What's wrong, Rebel Yell?" Remy said as he took his seat in front of her again. Her mumbling was almost inaudible, but he could make out a couple swear words flavoring the otherwise silent sentences. He could read a few words on the paper, and from what he could gleam it was an assignment from the Art teacher Mr. McCallister. He wasn't sure why she would be swearing about an Art assignment, from what he had gathered in his short time of knowing the group, Maya Hart was a tried and true artist. She wasn't the biggest fan of their English papers or math assignments, but she always beamed when she had a new project to paint, or sketch, or even sculpt. She looked as at peace with a pencil in her hand drawing a sunrise as he did playing a D7 chord.

"It's nothin. Just this damn assignment. I don't know what I'm going to paint." She sighed as she laid the paper on the table, running her hands through her blonde locks in frustration.

"Having something that you believe in is a fundamental part of being an artist. Lyricists and Composers write their most powerful songs when they believe in the words they put to paper. Sculptures come to life when the person making them believes in what they are chiseling or molding. Paintings become pools for the viewers to dive into if the artist has put every ounce of belief into their brush strokes. For this assignment, you will paint or sculpt two subjects that you believe in with your very soul." Remy read aloud. "Hmm...sounds vaguely familiar. Mr. Gibson gave us the same assignment, except that we must find a song where we feel it embodies something the original artist believed in AND that we resonate with enough that we can play it with conviction…" He said, sliding the paper back to her. "I'm sure you'll think of something." He said in an almost matter of fact manner.

"Glad one of us thinks so…" Maya said with a scoff. She had no clue what she was going to paint. She knew one person who made her realize that there was a point to hope for things, but that was one. She needed two, and she wasn't even sure she would be able to paint Shawn.

"Ya know...I've got an idea. It might be crazy, or it might give you just the fuel you need. Meet me at the subway station after school. I want you to see something that I've been doing since I arrived here a couple months back." He said, picking up his guitar case and backpack as the bell rang to note the end of lunch.

He wants me to go with him after school, to something he's been working on and hasn't shown anyone? That's...kind of awesome. She thought to herself before looking Remy in the eyes and nodding. "I'll be there Bellamy." She slung her bag over her shoulder and headed toward her American Literature class, Remy began moving in the opposite direction toward the science wing of TJH.

The last two hours of classes seemed to drag on as Maya anxiously awaited seeing what Remy felt would inspire her art. When the bell rang and her final period teacher dismissed them all, she moved through the crowd like water as she arrived at the front doors of the school and met Riley, Lucas, and Farkle. Remy, however, was nowhere to be seen. "Did he already leave?" Maya asked, thinking outloud.

"Who, Remy? He told us to meet him at the subway platform, didn't he?" Farkle said, answering her question with a question.

Us? Was he talking to the whole group? Oh… Maya felt a twinge of disappointment at the revelation. Oh well, if he's right, at least I'll have some idea for this stupid "Belief" project. She said, her mind wandering to what he could possibly be waiting to show them. Even through all these years, admitting that she believed in or hoped for anything was still difficult. As her mind wandered, she and group began their march to the subway station, her trance finally broken as she heard the scrape of the brakes and the southern twang of their friend's voice.

"Glad ya made it Maya. Lucas, Riley, Farkle...good to see you guys too. You all joining us then, ya?" He said. He didn't realize that his invitation had been so open ended. Oh well, maybe they'd all see what he meant by "do good".

"Yes sir. We're all here." Lucas said, smiling at the other young man. He and Farkle were best friends, but he had gained a great amount of respect for Remy in their short time together.

"Well then, let's get goin'. We've got a couple stops before we get to where we're goin'." He said, ushering the group onto the subway car and hopping in himself.

He...didn't invite everyone else. He had just want me to come. Maya's mind was placed a bit more at ease. Yes, everyone was still there, but he didn't invite them intentionally. She couldn't quite pin why that mattered, but it did.

After 15 minutes of laughter, chatter, and subway bumps, Remy held up his hand to draw their attention and said "We're here." as he waited for the doors to open. When they did, the platform the group was on looked different than the rest. Where signs showing different shows in the area would normally be hung, graffiti occupied the real estate. The lights flickered, some simply burnt out. The other four young adults had never been to this part of town.

"Um...Remy?" Farkle said, poking his new friend in the ribs softly.

"Just follow me. It'll make sense, I promise. Believe me." He said, turning back and smiling at the young scientist.

"Okay...no funny stuff though Music Man. This is sketchy…" Maya said, stepping ahead of the rest to stand behind Remy directly. He'd never do anything to put us at risk...would he?

Remy merely nodded and walked up the staircase of the station with the group following closely in tow. He knew this was not where the group was probably accustomed to, considering where the cafe they all talked about was located...but there was a method to his madness and a rhyme to his reason as to why they were walking through what most would call the "ghetto"

When they emerged, Remy pointed no more than 200 feet away to an elementary school. "Roosevelt Elementary." He said very simply as he walked toward it and pushed open the doors.. Inside, a smiling face greeted him. Before the group was an older gentleman, grey hair resting atop his head in a side part and a modest black suit being his clothing of choice. "Mr. Bellamy...you've never had guests with you before. What a pleasant surprise. The kids will be so excited." Mr. Wright said, his smile widening as he spoke. In his 30 years of educating he had never seen a young man with such a passion to help students like Remy, and that he brought along others to possibly join in his little project warmed his old heart.

"Well, yes, Mr. Wright, I have a feeling they will. All the regulars in the auditorium? Also...do we have paint supplies, gymnastics mats, a few baseballs, a bat, a couple gloves, a chemistry set, and my usual stool?" He said, smiling as he looked back at his group. "Oh, and I'm just a big ball of rude now. Introductions of course. Maya Hart, Lucas Friar, Riley Matthews, and Farkle Minkus...I'd like to introduce Principal Miles Wright. I'd also like to explain what we're doing here. You see, Roosevelt Elementary has a "Kick Start" program that they do after school to help kids who have difficulty igniting that love of learning you need to succeed in academics. I used to help an elementary school out with a similar program where I came from, so I looked for something in the area when I found out that my family was moving. I brought you all here to see these kids...kids who have the potential to be the next us. The future that others might give up on, that I choose to embrace and empower."

"Quite well put Mr. Bellamy. To answer your question, yes. Kristen and I can get all of those things into the auditorium while you introduce your new group to the kids." Miles said, adjusting his suit jacket as he spoke and moved toward his office, telling his secretary to gather the things Remigius asked for. With that, Remy moved toward the doors of the auditorium and looked back at his friends, smiling brighter and bigger than they had seen yet. "Here we go". He chirped. The rest all looked eager to see what he was so passionate about, but Maya smiled just a bit bigger. Kids others would give up on...sure rings a bell.

The doors opened and, sitting at a series of particleboard folding tables were roughly 20 kids, all no older than ten. "MR. REMY!" rang out from a series of tiny voices as he walked through the doors, light gleaming off of the frames of his glasses.

"Hello students! As you can see, I'm not alone this time. I have a bit of a surprise for all of you today." He said as he walked toward the stage and waved for the other four to follow him. "I want you all to meet four exceptionally special people. I have the star athlete Mr. Lucas Friar, the elegant princess Miss Riley Matthews, The Future Nobel Prize Winner Mr. Farkle Minkus, and the Sensational, Stunning, Breathtaking Artist Miss Maya Hart. Today, they are all going to help me in helping you." He said as he saw what he had requested start to be brought it and set up in stations around the auditorium. He saw little hands shoot up, ready to ask all kinds of questions.

"Hold on, hold on, I'm sure I'll answer all of your questions when I explain exactly how they're going to help." He chuckled as he pointed at each of the stations Miles and Kristen had set up. "Each of them will be at a station that fits them. I want you all to go to a station that you believe you are going to be good at." He said as he saw each hand slowly lower, except for one. "Yes, Henry?" He said as the young boy smiled at being called on.

"But what station will you be at?" He said, his squeaky voice going higher at the end of his speech.

"Oh, I won't be at a station. I'll be right up here, on stage, tuning my guitar, practicing, and waiting for the last bit of our session here. You guys see me all the time. My friends here are a special treat. I wouldn't want to take away from that." He chuckled. "Besides, I have my own bit of homework to work on that I'm going to spoil you all with getting to hear."

The four all moved about and went to their stations, Lucas picking up the bat and putting it over his shoulder as he waited for the kids to line up. Sure enough, 2 little girls and 3 little boys all lined up to learn about baseball. They exited out toward the field behind the school and Kristen followed them.

Farkle stood behind the beakers of the chemistry set that Miles had set up on the far end of the room. 5 young ones all shuffled over to his station.

Riley stood in front of the gymnastics mats and tilted her head, unsure how Remy knew she would be comfortable with this. Regardless of her comfort level, 3 little girls and 2 little boys clamored at her knees as she stood at her station.

Lastly, Maya stood in front 5 little easels, each with its own little paint tray. Miles walked in with a much larger one with a large canvas on it. "This is normally our art teacher's, but I do believe you can use it for the time being, Miss Hart." He smiled as he pulled the back leg out and set it up for her.

Remy sat and strummed a bit as the next hour sped past, Lucas teaching the kids how to time a swing, how to throw a couple different pitches, and explaining how baseball wasn't just a sport, it was a practice in controlling yourself, breathing, hand-eye coordination, and timing.

Farkle taught the kids the different forms of matter, ice as his solid which he melt to show liquid, and then boiled with a bunsen burner to show gas. He explained how everything in life could be classified as one of these forms, and how some things were made up multiple different components. He also answered that, yes, it was his real name.

Riley taught all of the kids how to tumble and do handstands, one even did a cartwheel. She explained how gymnastics was about knowing how your body could move, planning your moves, and believing in your abilities. Maya had the most active class of all, the kids getting their hands dirty with the pants and painting "what they felt in their hearts when they were happy, or sad, or mad, or anxious. What they saw when they felt one of those emotions." They all came out amazing, and all the kids were smiling from ear to ear when they went to wash their hands as Remy called everyone back to the stage.

He sat on the stool he had asked for and propped his guitar on his knee. "So, it looks like everyone learned something today. More important than that, everyone had FUN learning something today. So, I promised you all that I would play my own homework assignment for you." He patted his maple wood beauty as he spoke to the kids.

"You see, at our school, all of the teachers for the art based classes gave us projects that dealt with belief. Painting something that gives us hope and that we believe in with all our very souls. Finding a song to sing that we believe in every word so much that we feel ourselves in the song. Performing a piece from a play that moved us so much that we just had to perform it because it was exactly what we feel...or in my case, playing a song that the words and the music speak to me in such a way that I almost wish I had written it myself. I racked my brain for awhile when my teacher gave me that assignment...and then I thought of you kids. Each one of you, you show up here and you work your butts off because you all know that you can be so much more than some people give you credit for. You all believe...and I believe in each and every one of you. This song...is called We Believe." He said, smiling as he looked around at his "students" and strummed the first few chords.

"In the night, we're all looking for a guiding light. We're all seeking something more than right. It must be theeereee. Everyday, we're all trying to find a better way. We're all hoping for someone to say, 'we're almost there'. WE BELIEVE! There's a reason that we're all here. And every doubt will disappear. We believe." He smiled as the kids all began to clap in time with the tune he was playing...and then he heard louder claps behind him as Lucas and Farkle started up...then Riley...then Maya...and they began to walk around to stand with the kids.

"In our time, if we hit a wall that we can't climb, and if we stumble at the finish line, we'll start agaaaain. Everyone. Every single person under the sun, has a moment where they know they've wooooooon. But until theee...eeee...eeeeen! WE BELIEVE!" His voice climbed as he elongated the words. He knew the song well...it was something he listened to on the plane ride to NYC.

"There's a reason that we're all here, and every doubt will disappear. WE BELIEEEEEEVE. WE BELIEVE! That tomorrow carries something new, and after everything that we've been through...WE BELIIIIIIEEEEVEEEEE." He bellowed out as he hit the solo of the song and let his guitar weep out the chords before he began singing again. He looked out over the crowd of tiny hands raised and waving, 4 sets of teenage hands mixed up amongst them as well as two adults in the back holding up cell phones like lighters. The sight made him chuckle before he began to singing once more.

"In the power of hope and the strength of peace, there's a way back home where the battles cease. A new world will grow if we just believe, this is what we know, this is what we neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeedwebelieve...that tomorrow carries something new, and after everything that we've been through…." He pointed to the kids a few moments later, and like thunder cracking the sky when a storm has been brewing for days, like a hammer striking a primed and ready nail...their voices cried out. Some in tears, some laughing, some just proud and brave and bold and beautiful. "WE BELIEEEEEEEEEEEEEVE!" His friends joined him once more on the stage...all but Maya. He tilted his head in confusion, until he saw her phone come out. She figured out what she believes in… He thought as he finished out his own homework assignment. "There's a reason that we're all here, and every doubt will disappear. WE BELIIIIIIEEEEEEVEEEE. WE BELIEVE that tomorrow carries something new, and after everything that we've been throoooouuuuuughhhhh, WE BELIEVE. WE BELIEVE…" He pointed to his friends and let them sing the final line with him...but only if they meant it. "We believe…" he heard 4 other voices chim in: 3 from behind him and one from the crowd. His fellow believers...his friends. He felt a gentle, manicured hand rest on his right shoulder, a bony but manly hand on his left, and a pair of muscled, callused hands rest upon his head as he smiled. Do good...oh, I get it now! Farkle thought as a smile spread across his face as his friend's improper english suddenly seemed completely proper. Remy pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and smiled as he heard the "click click" of a camera come from the crowd.

Having something you believe in is a fundamental part of being an artist. Paint something that you believe in with your very soul…

[Flash Forward One week]

As Maya stood in the art room of Thomas Jefferson High School, looking about her fellow students sitting with smocks on and brushes in their hands, she finished retelling the tale of her helping the Kick Start program at Roosevelt Elementary. She was the last student to present her project, which in all honesty was likely for the best. With a sigh of relief and anxiety combined, she turned around her canvases for the class to see. One perfectly depicted Shawn Hunter and Katy Hart making goofy, scrunched up faces at one another over a small, lit candle.

The other, however, was what her story was about. In varied shades of lighting, she had painted Remy holding his guitar while Farkle and Riley put their hands on his shoulders and Lucas folded his hands on top of his head. At Remy's feet, a sea of tiny fingers raised high, and the words "My Whole Soul, in Four Parts" painted in an arc above them. "So you asked us to paint subjects that we believe in with our very soul... I couldn't have painted anything more accurate." She said, smiling at Mr. McCallister as he held up a small, white board that read one small, letter. "A"

After everything that we've been through...we believe. Maya's eyes watered as she pulled the canvases and took her seat, rolling the lyrics over and over again in her mind.

End Chapter 2

Author Note: Thanks everyone for reading. If you're wondering, the song is We Believe off of David Cook's sophomore album This Loud Morning. Pick it up on Amazon or Itunes. I'm trying to keep the chapters quality but also give you all a bit more as, come November my job will be picking up for the holidays and come January I begin my prerequisite classes to become...a teacher. Next chapter may get a weeeeeee bit emotional. Prewarning. Sorry!