Author's Note: Wow. I'm really happy for the reviews I received. Just like I promised, BMCof2011 is getting a shout out(: They made an account just to review. But here's your new chapter, as another promised thingy. I'm going to try to make this longer than the others, because I'm not really sure about how many chapters I'm going to have. I know it's going to be longer than, 'Cancer Schmancer.' I've also got a poll going on my profile that really needs to be answered. Thankies! (: Hope you enjoy. And I'm really glad the blackmail is working, because I'll make sure this has an ending that can go either way. If you review – it can continue, if you don't – it can end. Don't you love me? Haha. By the way, I had to do the research for this chapter myself. D': And I hate having to research. I had no idea what happened when a child wasn't wanted, so I had to do some looking into it. Just to let you know, I had to do this for you all. You're loved, too(:

Fran's happiness had soon faded as she learned that she would have to return to America. She didn't want to now, she was only getting settled in and now she had to leave? Her heart felt as if were ready to shatter and be done with – more like, she wished it could. Maybe then all of her hurt and pain would be over. Nothing mattered to her at the moment. She just wanted to run where nobody could find her and cry; cry until she finally cried herself into oblivion. Then – not only would her sorrows be over – but everyone in her life that she had been a pain on, wouldn't have to deal with her again. But, she knew she had to remain where she was and continue her life. It always gets calm before the storm. She knew this was coming from the moment she arrived. Her mother was out to ruin the only happiness that she could obtain. Fran hated her life and until she was able to stay in England, she would continue to hate herself and everyone else around her. If she had to go back to New York, she would never be the same again.

"Freida," a sob racked. "Please. Do something."

She put her head down, not even her money could do anything.

"Sweetheart, you know I wish I could. But this is your mother."

"To hell with that." Fran cried out. She didn't care who was her mother or father, she only wanted to be happy, did that mean anything to anyone? "There has to be something that can be done."

Maxwell wrapped his arms around his girlfriend. He would try to talk to his father about it, but since his father was hardly reachable, he doubted that it would be possible. A flicker of emotion ran through his body at the thought of losing her already. But his feelings were finally questioned inside of him – I've only known her a couple of days. Is this really love? But in order to find out, she needed to stay with him, so he could hold her. And to think, only a few minutes ago she had been worried that she would have to go back to school, now she had to fear of going back to America.

"I'll do some research." Freida lifted her head and looked toward her computer. "I'm sure there is something. I know, in America, if a child is over thirteen and they are fighting a custody battle, the child has a say in what family they want to return to," she nodded. "Hopefully we'll be able to fight this out in court. But it all depends on what England law states."

"Aunt Freida, I don't want you to waste all of your money on this, it won't be fair to you," she hugged her aunt. "You've already done so much for me, why?"

"Because I care for you, sweetheart."

Fran hugged her aunt tighter and cried. She hadn't felt that much emotion in her heart before. Had her aunt really said that she cared for her! It was new to Fran, nobody, but Danny and Val, had ever told her that they loved her. She was sure that Danny done it just to keep her for sex, but Val meant it – she was her best friend. And Fran hadn't even bothered to call her since the move. She hadn't forgot about her, but she was all the way back in America. Soon, they would be reunited again. Much to her dismay.

Frieda looked up to Maxwell, she could see that he was on the verge of tears. She hadn't known this would hurt him just as much as it had them, but it was clearly evident on his face. She felt the need to reach out to him as well, but she didn't know him and it would be awkward. So. She left it at a simple nod of reassurance.

"Max, would you mind taking Frannie back to her room? I think she needs some time."

He nodded, carefully picking her up in his arms. Max had plans to come back to help Freida with her research, right as soon as he told Fran to get some sleep. He needed her to stay so he could sort all of his feelings out for her. He knew he wanted her and he knew they could have something special, but it had taken months before C.C. and Niles had finally fell in love with each other, maybe this was different, though. Maybe some people just fall in love easier. Either way, Maxwell needed her to stay so that he wouldn't have to face the hurt of being alone. He may have not developed love for her yet, but he had developed a strong connection that he couldn't resist.

Maxwell laid her upon her bed, cupping her cheek. "Get some rest, darling. You'll need it for school tomorrow."

"Stop sounding like my father!," she shouted, tears breaking the surface once more. "I can't rest now."

He shook his head, obviously he had sounded more like a father than a lover. But he was only trying to be of help so she could stay."

"Shh, it's alright." Maxwell kissed her gently on the lips. "I'll make sure that you get to stay here, Fran. Just get some rest, please?"

She nodded, letting her eyes close. "I love you."

"Love you."

He flipped the lights off and shut her door as he returned to the living room.

Maxwell sat in one of the chairs in front of Freida, his mind wandering to any England law that he had hear mentioned over the years, but none had come to mind. He really wished he'd had listened in history class, as they went over these kinds of things. But never, until now, had he thought that he would need to use them. He shook his head at the overwhelming feelings overtaking him. Max couldn't let his lover's aunt see him cry, not when he was trying to be strong for everyone.

"Freida, I can call my father."

"You don't have to."

Maxwell shook his head, "I want to."

"Very well, then."

He took the phone in his hand, running his fingers slowly across the numbers. The number wasn't familiar to his mind – having to try to remember the number. He hadn't called his father but once or twice in his life. But this meant more to him than those times, he could only hope that his father would answer.

"Maxwell Sheffield, Sr."

Never had his father answered his own phone, but this was a good thing.

"Father,"

"Maxwell- so good to hear from you."

He rolled his eyes, "can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure, son."

"This girl I've been seeing was sent here recently, she, her parents didn't want her. But now, they're requesting her back." Maxwell shook the tears away once again, "I was wondering if there was anything you could do?"

"Cells bind together to create a molecular structure,"

The students heads were flattened out onto the desks, not really caring about Cell Structures and everything else they were going over in Biology. But, of course, being a required class, they had to listen.

"So. I would like you all to make a poster, showing all parts of a cell. Make sure to define each part."

As C.C. groaned, the teacher shook her head.

"Miss. Babcock! Do you have a problem?"

"No, ma'am."

Mrs. Fletcher turned her attention back to the others, ignoring the fact that C.C. was yet again, acting out of class. She had tried to train her better, but nothing could stop the snobbish act that the Babcocks held.

"I've got the poster boards, colors, and paper. You'll just have to use resources around you to find the right information. Not all parts are in your Biology book."

"Then, how are we suppose to finish our projects?" Rodchester – a boy that C.C. hadn't been able to stand since she arrived, had spoken out, like always.

"You'll use the library, of course. As well as the internet."

As the class came to a close, C.C. grabbed her needed supplies, spindling her way out of the unappealing classroom that she was forced to take into consideration. She hated the work, she hated the teacher, and she liked nobody in that class. It was the only class of the day that she couldn't stand, but she was always up to keeping her grades high – always afraid of failure. The good ole' C.C. couldn't bare to fail anything.

"C.C.!"

She turned around to the most repulsing sight.

"Amy!," she forced a fake smile. "You rang?"

"Yeah, how are you doing? I know it's been quite a while since I've been to practice."

"Which is why nobody likes you.!" C.C. smirked.

"Just wondering about the whole cheer leading captain thing. Is Fran really going to be our captain now?"

"Um, yes. You won't show, Amy."

"Oh, okay."

And C.C. rusted her laugh out into the open as she turned around to leave. She knew Amy was probably behind her wanting to say something, but she didn't give her a chance to. C.C. had always been talked about by everyone, whether it was good or bad – it didn't matter – because she was getting the attention. Her mother had always told her that attention was attention, any way you looked at it. So, Miss. Babcock herself let everyone give her the attention that she deserved. As she thought about it, though, nobody could give her what she wanted like Niles could.

Fran held her pencil in her hand, writing anything that ran through her mind, down on the sheet of paper in front of her. She had already filled the notebook with ideas and writing prompts. The teacher had been nice about letting Fran's ideas flow, since she always seemed to have one. It wasn't like she could help it that she was born with the mouth that she had – always talking – was her specialty.

"Francine, what's your idea today?"

She looked up, her pencil instantly flying down and her arms covering her paper. Mrs. Jenkins' look had become worried at her student.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, it's just, not finished, you know." Fran's fake smile lit up her face, "you know how I don't like letting you read my things before I've finished."

Still not buying it, she walked away.

Fran laid her head in her hands, feeling the tears that threatened to fall from her face. She was ready to give up and get everything over with. She was ready to get back to New York. She was ready for the suffering that she had to take. If she didn't prepare herself, she would never be able to handle the exchange, again. The different, Fran had been scared of coming to England because of what people would think of her – she was scared to go home, fearing of what her parents would do to her everyday. But of course, she wasn't letting Max or Freida know, because if she actually had to leave, it would only cause them more pain – and she couldn't afford to know they were hurting over her.

She felt a hand go to her arm, steadying her. Maxwell couldn't stand to see her hurt as she had been hurting, especially since she hadn't spoke a word to him since the moment she found out she was having to leave. Fran didn't want him to touch her, to hold her, to kiss her – knowing it would only push them closer to each other – and each time, they got a little farther away. Fran held no hope that they would last past the first week she was gone, so. Why try? Once she left, her chances of making it back to England, were very slim. Mostly because she wouldn't live long if she knew what was in store for her with her mother and father. They had never been abusive, but she was pretty sure it was coming her way. Sylvia and Morty would find a way to place all the blame on her, reassuring their selves that Fran left on her own terms, and she would definitely be hurt.

"Fran," his eyes filled with sadness. "Aren't you going to talk to me at all?"

She didn't answer, she just stayed still until she gained enough composure to start writing again. No. Fran wasn't going to talk, she would only focus on what was going on around her. Even if she stayed, she wouldn't know how to handle herself, afraid her parents would somehow find a way to hurt her more and pull her back.

"Just to let you know, I've talked to my father."

Maxwell sat back in his seat, pulling his notebook to him. He hated this, her not talking to him. It didn't aggravate him, far from it. It was painful upon him. Max thought that he would never see her again if he didn't keep her, but it wouldn't matter anyway. He would have to move on if she left, he knew for sure. He still hoped that his father could do something to help his love before it was too late.

"Fran, you need to talk to him. This is hurting him as much as you." C.C. looked at her best friend, at least trying to break through to her. "You don't understand how this is hurting him. Hell, I'm not sure what's going on, but I don't want to lose you either. Niles told me a little, but it wasn't much to comprehend anything."

She shook her head, "I can't talk to him."

"And why the hell not?"

"Because, C.C.! The more I talk to him, the more I stay around him, the more I kiss him – I'm going to get closer. When I have to leave, it's going to get to the both of us worse. Don't any of you understand that?" She sighed, throwing her hand to her head. "I get that it's killing him inside, I get that when I go it's going to be the last time he ever looks at anyone. But I'm going through this, too. I know what this feeling is like. The closer I put myself to him, the worse it's going to be trying to get by without him." Fran stood in front of C.C., having to look up due to her height. At these times, she really wished she wouldn't have started, after actually looking at her friend. "Put yourself in my situation. Pretend it was you and Niles. You would do the same! I know you would."

"Damn right I would, but I couldn't tear myself away from him. I would try to do anything to keep him, with my money. I would do anything. Are you even trying to stay!"

Fran rolled her eyes, "of course I'm trying to stay, but it's not as easy for me as it is for you."

C.C. took Fran by the arms, trying to calm her down as she began to shake uncontrollably. It wasn't right that someone so small and fragile had to go through something so threatening and hurtful.

"Why not?"

She wiped the tears from her eyes, guilt flowing through every vein in her body. Fran had lied about everything from the time she had started Eton. Now wasn't the time to let C.C. know, but she had a right, since she was leaving after all. So. She sat her down on the bed and explained to her – the real reason – why she was there, how she was there. Fran wasn't happy about having to explain it over and over, after each time, a small glint of hope rose in her – thinking maybe her parents did want her after all. Her mother had called and said she made a mistake. But each time she thought it, she regretted it. Sylvia had done this to her before, pulling her back in, and letting her down again.

"So. You're technically not rich? You're from Flushing, Queens!"

She keep her head still, not indicating any part of her that wished she had told the truth.

"Fran, I don't care if you are or not. Maybe before I would have judged, but since I've met Niles, nothing could get me to judge anyone that way."

But somehow, that didn't sound right to Fran, that C.C. wasn't exactly telling the truth herself.

"And I'm here to help you if you need me,"

Fran jumped up at the sound of a door knock, not only wanting it to be Maxwell, but needing it to be worse. Her worst fear crept up inside of her, though. Sylvia stood standing at the door, smiling happily – but Fran knew that wasn't happiness. It was gloating.

"Pack your things, darling. We're taking you home."

Author's Note: Ohoh, no! Her worst fear, Sylvia has showed up. Personally, I hate this chapter. I felt it sounded very childish to myself, but it took me three days to try and get it right for all of you. Just let me tell you all, I've really enjoyed your reviews. (: They've been wonderful. & I have loved every single one of them. This one, though, I'm expecting little reviews to know reviews at all. )': I didn't like it. But ohoh, well. Like I said – this has an ending that can go either way. I can end it, or I can continue. :D Check out the poll on my profile. I'm sure it's going to be something worth doing.