A/N: I'm publishing chapter two with chapter one all at once because they're both preliminary chapters that kind of go together in a sense. This story will unfold more slowly though. It'll start small and then build. (Also spelling is not my strongest suit, so sorry if I've made any grave errors in this story or in any others lol)

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Girl Meets World, but… eh I got nothing…

For the rest of the week, Maya kept a closer eye on Anna to see how she was doing. Maya hadn't really noticed anything in her behaviour since school started that could particularly be labeled as sad, but then again, Maya hadn't known about Anna's home life before. Plus she hadn't been seeking out signs of a possible childhood depression. Now that she knew what to look for, she was a little more careful in her scrutiny.

But for the most part, the girl seemed just fine, still playing with her friends without a hitch and still speaking without turn and making too much noise sometimes. Overall, she didn't seem to have anything bugging her or lingering in her mind. She was just as cheerful as she normally always was.

And that was a sheer relief to Maya.

But she would still make sure to keep up with her situation and make sure she was okay.

Maya also made sure that Anna had her method to get home taken care of before she left the class and thankfully Mrs. Coleman picked her up on time so she didn't have to wait for a while after school.

"Almost done, Maya?" Tina Vernon asked her as she stood up from the faculty work room table.

"Almost." Maya said in relief, "One more progress report. I really should stop putting these off until the last minute."

"Well we're all busy people. Procrastination is in our nature." Tina said with a smile as she filed her progress reports and dropped them in the grade bins at the end of the table. "Call me sometime. We need to go get a drink to destress."

"Definitely agree." Maya laughed. "And I'll do just that."

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. See ya."

Maya continued to put the finishing touches to the comments on her last student's progress report. She didn't understand why the school insisted on handwritten reports for "authenticity". It was time consuming and cramp inducing and in this bustling and busy day and age where a computer could do a job much faster, it was such a huge inconvenience for Maya and her fellow teachers.

Riley was lucky. Since she taught kindergarten, she didn't have that requirement to write reports unless the kid was really problematic. But Maya supposed she should be glad that she wasn't a fifth or fourth grade teacher. She'd heard complaints of the neverending hours that had to be put in to finish those reports up because they were ten thousand times more nuanced than ones for early elementary school.

When she finally put the last period on the comment, she stood up with a loud yawn, cracking her stiff joints from sitting in the same position for so long. She filed her stack of reports in her class' folder and then tossed it in the second grade bin so they could be mailed to the students' homes. Maya couldn't even contain the happy sigh of relief that she was finally done with that and was free to go home.

Maya left the faculty work room, smiling sympathetically at some of the other teachers who were still trudging through their own. She walked through the hall slowly back to her classroom intending to just gather her stuff, lock her room and head straight home for a relaxing bubble bath with champagne and then sleep. She wasn't necessarily feeling under the weather, but she wasn't exactly in perfect health either.

She suspected maybe it was just because she hadn't gotten much sleep lately, her mind weighed down by so many thoughts, but no more. Tonight she wouldn't let anything stop her from relaxing and settling under her covers and enjoying herself a well-deserved sleep after a long afternoon working.

As she entered her classroom, she was surprised to see a tall man in casual business attire standing in the room staring at the 'Who Am I' portraits on the back wall near the computer area. His back was facing her and she couldn't see his expression, but he seemed a little lost in thought, seeing as how he didn't seem to hear her when she entered the room.

"…Can I help you?" she asked suspiciously.

He turned around to face her and then seemed to stiffen the slightest bit as he stared at her. He looked a little shell shocked, his expression definitely surprised though Maya didn't know why he would.

Maya rose a brow at him, bristling slightly, a bit unnerved by his sea-foam gaze on her. She didn't recognize him at all and was sure she'd never seen him before. She would have remembered meeting someone that attractive.

"Are you Maya Hart, by any chance?" he finally asked after seeming to snap out of his odd little moment.

"Yes, that's me."

"Hi. I'm Lucas Friar." He approached her, his hand outstretched, though his mouth was set in something of a grim line. "Anna's father."

Maya blinked in total surprise as she shook his hand.

"Oh. You're Mr. Friar."

The forgetful, half a dad himself. It was quite the surprise. She never expected him to show up. Hell, she never thought she would ever meet the elusive father.

"I was starting to think you didn't actually exist." Maya said, "You know your daughter left with Mrs. Coleman today. Was she not supposed to?"

"No, she was." He responded as he rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt on his forearm. "Do you have a moment? I have something I need to discuss with you. It shouldn't take too long."

Maya was a little taken aback by the abrupt nature of his response. Clearly he wasn't in a very good mood for whatever reason. She wasn't sensing any particularly friendly vibes from him.

"Uh, sure…" She gestured to the round reading table and pulled out a chair, sitting down in it. "Have a seat."

He settled himself in one of the chairs as well. He looked a little uncomfortable, but she figured it was because the chairs were meant for children and he had fairly long legs.

"What did you want to discuss, Mr. Friar?" Maya asked, a little annoyed that her plans for quickly returning home had been foiled by the impromptu appearance of Anna's father.

"I'm a little concerned about Anna being in this class."

"…How so? Anna is doing very well in this class, if you're wondering about her work. She makes good marks and understands the lessons very well. Her homework reflects that understanding too."

As far as Maya was concerned, she didn't think Anna was having any issues in her class that merited her father coming to speak with her.

"Anna isn't the issue here." Lucas responded, steadily holding her gaze, "You are."

She searched his eyes silently for a moment in bewilderment, trying to figure out if he was joking about that or not. But he looked pretty serious.

"Is that so?" Maya rose a brow, cocking her head to the side curiously. "I'm the issue. Explain please."

"Mrs. Coleman has been informing me of what Anna has to complete for homework each night. To be honest, I'm a little skeptical about your teaching methods, Ms. Hart. I don't understand why my daughter keeps coming home with assignments to write a paragraph about a drawing or painting twice a week." He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "What does that have to do with the general curriculum in a second grade class? I thought it was going to be a onetime thing, but it's been almost two months into the school year and those ridiculous assignments have continued."

And Maya's eyes narrowed in annoyance. It was one thing for him to have reservations about her curriculum, but to dismiss it as ridiculous? She didn't even know him, but she was already starting to see that he was a jerk. He wasn't doing very well racking up points in her impression of him as a father. She already saw him as a neglecting parent, and now he had the nerve to attack her lesson plan as if he knew what he was talking about?

The nerve!

"Ridiculous?" Maya scoffed incredulously, staring at him like he had lost his mind. "Excuse me, but what?"

"I would rather my daughter spend more time on homework that matters. Things that will contribute to a future." Lucas clarified almost snidely. Maya definitely detected a hint of condescension in his tone. "Interpreting art won't contribute to a future."

Maya was sure that she was absolutely slack jawed by now, doing a double take in shock. Who the hell did he think he was showing up to her classroom out of the blue and then attacking her teaching methods as if he knew a damn thing?

But she knew it wouldn't do to lose her temper and go off on him no matter how much she wanted to punch him in the face.

"Mr. Friar." Maya glared at him, speaking slowly through grit teeth. "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a vet."

"A very noble occupation. You heal beloved sick pets and operate on torn ligaments and limbs and diminish the pain of the animals, right?"

"…Yes?" He was looking a little confused.

"Right." Maya said sharply, "So how about you stick to your job and what you're good at. And I'll stick to mine and what I'm good at. I assign those interpretations of art because they are important in my class, and I would very much appreciate it if you didn't criticize that decision from whatever deranged conclusions you've determined on your own when you don't even know my motivations."

"I wasn't aware you were teaching an art class." His eyes narrowed. "How are the students supposed to develop reading comprehension skills and basic conceptual understandings of math and science if their homework doesn't engage those processes?"

"First of all, I assign all types of homework regularly to engage all aspects of the students' learning processes. Get your facts straight." Maya snapped, fighting the urge to wring her hands around his stupid neck.

This guy was pissing her off so much. How in the world was it that he had such a sweet daughter, yet he himself was such a butthead?

"And second, I'm trying to teach the children to think outside of the box and consider many interpretations other than what is shown to them at face value. To show them that there are many ways to see things and that sometimes there isn't one clear cut answer or one answer period. Viewing many different perspectives and keeping an open mind is a hidden curriculum that must be taught from an early age, Mr. Friar. Now, if you'll excuse me, I would appreciate it if you didn't question my leadership, because I am way more qualified than you to teach a second grade class. And if you think otherwise, then by all means, do my job for me. And you're going to look really ridiculous because I sure as hell know you don't know what you're talking about and you look like a real asshole stopping by my classroom and keeping me from going home with that crap you're spewing."

He was silent for quite a while, his brows raised in shock at her sudden outburst.

"Despite how unconventional my teaching methods might seem, there's a purpose, I have a lesson plan, and I know exactly what I'm doing, Mr. Friar. Otherwise don't you think I would have been fired by now?" Maya said, feeling insanely better from the stupefied look on his face as he stared at her.

"I didn't realize…"

"Of course you didn't." Maya rolled her eyes. "No doubt you're not the analytical type. You know, I think you should do these assignments with Anna. You'd be surprised by the many different interesting perceptions of the pieces you can develop. Plus it might be a way to help you get out of this bullheaded mindset you seem to have about what constitutes a proper classroom."

He contemplated her with a slight quirked brow, looking a little intrigued. No doubt he had expected her to be some demure, soft-spoken young teacher who would cower under his presence. It wasn't like he had a very commanding presence in and of itself, but he seemed like the type who probably was used to things going his way. How on earth did he develop that kind of stubborn mindset though? He honestly looked fairly young, and Maya suspected he probably wasn't much older than her.

"You're right." He finally admitted, "I think I might have jumped to conclusions too quickly. I'm sorry."

Well that was surprising.

She hadn't expected an apology. He seemed like the kind of person who had a lot of pride in himself.

"I appreciate the apology." Maya said, "But listen, Mr. Friar. While we're here can we discuss your parenting?"

"My parenting?" Lucas said a little defensively, "Didn't we just get into some type of argument about overstepping particular 'job' boundaries on experience? Are you a mother, Ms. Hart?"

"This is something you need to hear." Maya continued, ignoring his little jab. "You need to take a more proactive stance in your daughter's life. I'm not trying to tell you how to raise your daughter, but Anna is a lovely and very smart girl. She's sweet, she's caring, she's hopeful and optimistic, but that only lasts so long before the jadedness kicks in. Before the self-worth issues kick in. Before the lack of hope starts to grow."

Maya sighed as he regarded her impassively.

"Look, you may not think what I'm saying is credible, but I've been there. I grew up with my mother rarely taking care of me because she had to work. And even though I'd like to say I turned out fine, I still resent the way I grew up to this day. There are lasting effects. I know you're a busy man, but for the sake of that amazing little girl, please try harder to be a full time dad. It's your responsibility. Just because you assume the paternal position in her life doesn't automatically make you a father. You have to put in some effort. Let me show you something."

Maya stood up from her chair, walking over to her file cabinet on the other side of the room near the reading corner with the bookshelf and rug. She unlocked it and opened the second one, rummaging through the letters for last names until she stopped at F. Maya pulled the small blue book with 'Anastasia Sophia Friar' written in sharpie on the cover from the file and made her way back over to Lucas.

"The kids keep a journal in my class. Twice a week for about ten to fifteen minutes I give them a prompt and they write short essays. It's just a way of building writing skills as well as a way for me to learn more about my students." Maya said as she sat down, flipping through pages of the journal to find what she was looking for. "I asked them to write an essay about any person who inspires them yesterday. And Anna wrote about you."

Lucas' brows rose a bit in surprise as Maya skimmed the page.

"She said she loved how you take care of animals, how you love to take care of everybody you know because you're caring. How you're too busy to take care of her though but that it's okay because she knows you have to help everyone else, and she shouldn't be selfish. Then she said she wished you would take care of yourself because you seem sad sometimes. It's obvious that she loves you with all her heart." Maya shook her head in slight disdain. "But what kind of daughter is neglected so often that she convinces herself that it's fine that her father can't spend more time with her because if he did she would be a selfish person? That's a terrible mindset to have at such a young age. She idolizes you and can't see fault with you because you're her hero, so she's directed the blame on herself. You need to fix this before her essays start to end in tears and 'my daddy doesn't love me and it's all my fault'. And there's more alarming stuff in this essay. Read it."

Maya handed him Anna's journal and waited patiently as he read the words on the page, his brows slightly furrowed. His eyes ran over the page as he silently read, and Maya watched his expression grow more pained, a little more appalled, the disbelief in his eyes being the most prominent.

When he was done reading it, he set in down on the table slowly.

"…This is what she's been thinking all this time?" he muttered softly.

Maya shrugged. "It's shocking, isn't it? You never know what thoughts your children develop as they grow."

"All this time I spent working. I didn't even realize…" Lucas sighed, closing his eyes momentarily and running his hand through his hair tiredly. "What can I do to fix this?"

"Do you cherish your daughter, Mr. Friar?"

"I do." he responded seriously, meeting Maya's gaze, "I love her with all my heart. She's the most important person in my life."

"Good. Start there. It's not the end of the world and you still have plenty of time to mend things. Start by showing Anna how much you love her." Maya smiled. "Little things count. Drop her off at school. Pick her up. Stop forgetting about her. Spend more time with her. Learn about who she is. Start being her father again. She will notice the difference, trust me. I understand you're busy, but you should never be too busy to take care of your child. Especially if you're her only parent. You have to give her two parents' worth of love. Not half the love from one."

He stared at her for a moment, slight astonishment in his eyes before he finally nodded slowly.

"You're right. I have to do better for her."

"I'm glad you understand." Maya stood up, assuming the meeting was just about done, because honestly, she really wanted to start getting home. Lucas followed suit. "I really hope to see some improvements in your relationship with your daughter, Mr. Friar."

"I'll do my best." He shook her hand. "Thank you for the wakeup call."

"No problem." Maya smiled, "Have a nice evening."

"You too." Lucas said as he made his way to the door, "Have a good evening, Ms. Hart."

After he left the room, she picked up the discarded journal and went about putting it up and locking her file cabinet. Maya sighed in relief, glad that she had been able to influence Lucas to try to change the situation.

Maybe she was too close to the situation because of her own experience and maybe she had been poking her nose where it didn't belong, but she couldn't help it. She never wanted anyone growing up as she had.

Maya could very vividly remember spending long mornings, afternoons, and evenings in her mother's empty apartment with her Gammy teaching herself how to live on her own because eventually, Maya learned her mother had to prioritize work over her. And once her grandmother passed, and she was truly alone… Well… It was a lonely experience that shaped who Maya became.

Frightened, unsure, jaded.

Hopeless.

It was the reason why she'd made such a grave mistake.

Maya shook her head, pushing away the dangerous thoughts her mind was veering towards. She sighed and gathered up her stuff into her bag.

Maya locked her room and left for the evening, her shoulders slumped.