Chapter 3.1- The Only One

            It was certainly true, what they said, about the number 1. It was the loneliest number Mariah had ever known also. Not that she’d intended to be the only one in the kitchen as she stepped up to the cake.

            Her mother was off doing who knows what, and Mariah didn’t feel like wrestling with her. She’d tried to call Andre, but he and Kelci were at some dinner party her dad was throwing for the big wigs in his company. If she’d wanted to, she could have called Roger. He would have been here in a heartbeat she knew, but something held her back. And so it was her, and only her, celebrating her birthday.

            A particularly heavy roll of thunder dully shook the window panes.

            At least the weather mimicked how Mariah was feeling. The sun was still out revealing a blazing sunset, but the sudden downpour was gloomy and dreary, muting the brilliance of light.

            Shrugging a little, Mariah watched the smoke from her candles drift upward. Oh well. If nothing else, she was graduating tomorrow, finishing with school forever. That was something at least.

            Well, uh, look out world. Here I come, was Mariah’s wry thought to herself as she posed, trying to get used to her new body.

            Oh, who was she kidding anyway? It was high time she got used to being alone in the big house, doing things by herself, for herself. She was being pathetic! Wanting someone else to be here? Puh.

            Feeling useless because she had no one to take care of since her mother was actually being active, for once? That shouldn’t be bothering her! She should be happy! She wasn’t a teenager any longer!

            And so she sat to nibble at her cake, trying not to think about how many more empty hours had to pass before graduation tomorrow, before Andre would come to say his goodbyes, before her mother would pass leaving her truly, and utterly, alone.

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            Mariah checked the stove for the umpteenth time that day with the burner ON. She’d been so nauseous though! Surely the stove wasn’t getting hot enough and so she was eating undercooked foods. Then she’d get worms. And mutant bacteria. And she’d die an agonizingly painful death in the hospital while news channels obsessed over her grizzly demise, using it as a warning to all other sims to properly cook their food.

            Yet no matter how much she checked the temperatures on all her cooked foods with a food thermometer, the nausea persisted.

            It could also all be chalked up to losing her mother. Waves of grief would also hit her at random moments. 

            Of course, a lot of that could be guilt over selling off so many of her mother’s precious collectables shortly before she died.

Layla had emerged from her room, took one look at the bare floors and thin shelves before suddenly expiring. Mariah was sure it was her fault. She shouldn’t have changed things around. She knew it was traumatic for some people in her mother’s condition to have things suddenly change.

            The worst was when the nausea and the guilt of grief would hit at the same time. When she’d gone to visit her parents’ graves to lay flowers she almost thought she’d have to find a bush the nausea was so bad.

            Slowly, Mariah adjusted to being on her own. Roger would call occasionally to give her updates on how Police Academy was going for him and she began to think about getting a job herself. Maybe the tedium was causing the nausea?

            Or maybe not.

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            I Don't

            Is Over

            I Can't

            Never Wanted

            The End

            Massaging her temples, Mariah read through the letter in front of her again. Again, the words slipped through her mind leaving only traces of their meaning behind. If only the pounding might stop, maybe she could focus.

            “Dammit, Mariah!” Roger’s voice boomed out after beating fiercely on the door for the umpteenth time. “I can see you through the windows! And I hear you crying! Let.Me.In!”

            A few hiccupping sobs was the only reply she would give him though. Or could give him either.

            “I know your mom is gone,” Roger’s voice finally had softened enough for her to hear the slight catch. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be here for you. But Academy is over and I’m here now. Please let me in.”

            Judging by his shadow, Mariah assumed he’d put his forehead against the glass and she scoffed. Wouldn’t this all be so much simpler if it were only about her mother?

            “Please, ‘Riah.”

            Sighing heavily, she rolled her eyes. Maybe if she just let him in he’d see the mess she’d created for herself. And then he’d go away. And then she could figure out just what the letter was saying, determine how bad it all actually was.

            And despite herself, she was curious. She hadn’t seen him since graduation. How had he changed after training to join the police force?

            “If you don’t open this door by the time I count to five, I’ll break it down!”

            There was no need for that. And so she hefted herself out of her chair, slowly, trying to keep her precarious balance.

            But she was too late. She’d barely taken 2 steps when Roger finally tried the unlocked door knob and came crashing in, nearly falling himself.

            Well, Police Academy hadn’t made him that much more coordinated. Oh well.

            Eyes closed, she took a deep breath, trying to give him time to regain his composure. Then she squared her shoulders, defiantly showing him just what kind of a state she was in. Hair unkempt. Makeup smeared and melting. Tear stained. Round bellied. 

            Then she saw who stood in front of her.

            That was Roger?

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*Ducks and hides from Urunwa. Better shots will be next time! I promise! But I did promise, and deliver, shots of Roger without glasses this time. Sorry they’re so far away.

            Welcome to Mariah’s rein as the 3rd Sixkiller Heiress! Woot, yay! So, quickly, just to make sure it made sense since a lot of that was silent. As you can see, Mariah grew up all and she’s Layla passed the day after Mariah aged up. I’ll put a pic or two up of her passing on Tumblr, but it wasn’t anything special. It happened shortly after Andre came over graduation night. (And I hope you noticed that he didn’t even stay the entire night.) After that it was just, well, Hey look! Generation 4 is on the way!

Chapter 2.49-Unknown Quantity

                “I’m telling you ‘Riah, it can’t be done,” Roger said sadly, his finger tracing the line he’d picked to emphasize his point. “We’d need better, stronger tools, and more people.”

                At Roger’s feet, Eddie, their sometimes compatriot, looked up from his homework briefly. “He’s right, Mariah. Listen to him.”

                In frustration, Mariah stamped her foot.

                “Aurgh! I just don’t wanna do this,” she whined.

                “You know,” Roger grinned. “You know I can always lock the towel closet while they’re in there. That is something feasible.”

                Today was officially the first day Mariah and Andre would be working together on their shared project and she would do anything to put it off. Roger had helpfully promised to assist her in any way he could. Eddie was just tagging along out of boredom.

                Mariah gave a single laugh, grinning large.

                “While I will admit that it might slow things down,” she said. “I just don’t think I want Andre showing up wet and gross. I mean, that’s why you shower after practice right?”

                “Point for the lady,” Eddie added.

                “Aw, why not? Maybe he’d just skip it and go home to shower,” suggested Roger. “And you’re not helping Eddie.”

                “Fair enough,” Eddie said, getting to his feet. “I really thought you two were serious about locking the entire football team in the locker rooms. But it seems my hopes were dashed. I shall go do my homework somewhere more comfy, thanks.”

                Waiting until Eddie had walked to the end of the block Roger finally made his plea.

                “’Riah, just ask Adkins to reassign you,” he begged her. “Ask if you can work alone. I’ll help you if you need.”

                Mariah let out a heavy sigh.

                “I already asked to be reassigned,” she admitted. “He told me that Andre had already made that request. Then he told me to suck it up. But I promise you, if I can’t handle the work load and he’s slacking I’ll come to you for help. Okay?”

                Roger’s eyes lit up at her words.

                “Great!” he said brightly. “Are you sure you don’t want me to be there today?”

                “Nah,” she answered. “Nah, if we’ve got to work together, I need to give it a fair shot. At least once. And hey! Maybe, if I get lucky, Mom will flip out while he’s there and he’ll just leave me alone, huh?”

                The two chortled for a moment, each with their own vision of what Layla might be capable of around a stranger.

                “Well, good luck,” Roger extended a hand formally. “And if you don’t survive, at least your friends will have the comfort of knowing that you died honorably, on the field of battle, against your mortal enemy.”

                “Yeah,” Mariah rolled her eyes, ignoring his outstretched hand. “Yeah, ‘cause that’ll happen.”

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                Running home she was afraid she’d be late. She’d spent far too much time with Eddie and Roger this afternoon and she’d wanted plenty of time to compose herself before Andre showed up.

                But as she began to run up the walk to the door an awful grinding noise made her look around before she came to a complete halt.

                What on SimPlanet  is Mom up to now?

                With wide eyes and careful steps, she approached the yellow monstrosity her mother was attempting to control. Dirt was flying everywhere from the machine and it had kicked up the dust into a cloud.

                But the noise was unbelievable! How had she not heard it before she got to the house? Or had she just ignored it as she’d raced down the hill, assuming it was something, someone, else?

                Honestly, she’d only been half hoping that Layla would cause a scene. At this very moment, she really regretted hoping that might happen. This was just embarrassing. Maybe she could jump in the hole that thing was digging and it could bury her?

                Where had Layla gotten it from?

              “What?” Mariah shouted once she thought she might be close enough for Layla to hear her. “What.Are.You.Doing?”

                “Worms!” Layla shouted back, never taking her eyes off of the display in front of her. “Your father is all out of bait to go fishing with! So I’m helping him out with this miner. This baby should be able to dig up all the worms he’ll ever need! Ha! And there’s a motherlode of them right there!” Layla jabbed a finger at a light on the display before pulling on the levers again.

                “Stuck!” Layla shouted happily before putting her weight into pulling that particular lever.

                Mariah sighed, rolling her eyes. There’s her mother for ‘ya. Living with ghosts in a land of make believe.

                “Okay, then,” Mariah sighed. “Listen!” She shouted once more. “Listen, someone is coming by to work on homework with me. Just send them up to Tibi’s room okay?”

                But Layla didn’t answer, and Mariah wasn’t going to stick around that dirty, smelly machine a moment longer. As it was, she felt she needed a shower just from being that close.

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                Mariah had chosen Tibi’s old room for several reasons.

                The first reason was obvious. What teenaged male would want to spend any time at all in the rather obnoxiously bright, overly girly room? Truth be told, even Mariah hated it.

                It was just so, so, purple. And pink. Bubble friggin’ gum pink. Could Tibi have gone any more cliché with her girlyness?

                Secondly, when Tibi had left she’d taken every piece of furniture from the room so it was nicely empty, giving them plenty of room to spread out while doing their work.

                Spread out, had also been the biggest point in that they had an entire room to separate from each other.

                This was her finally sustaining hope when that effer and gone and plopped down right next to her. Right next to her! What was wrong with him?

                Well, this is fun.

                Finally, Andre sat up.

                “I get it,” he said firmly. “I get that you didn’t want to be partnered with me. I know that. But we’re stuck together and I have no intentions of letting our partnership tank my grade. And since you don’t seem to be the one who wants to start, I will.”

                Mariah’s shoulders slumped as he read over the requirements. They had to pick an author from the list and read at least 2 works by the author they chose. Then there were 10 elements to the project. 1 element due a month, to be presented to the class. The final grade on the entire project made up a third of their grade for the year.

                When Andre had finally finished reading the list of elements required he looked up.

                “You’re a Victorian and Classic literature buff, I know,” he said, making the corners of her mouth twitch.

                Damn straight.

                “But I’m not nearly as familiar with those authors,” he admitted. “However, I’m really good with modernist authors. You are also pretty good with those. So I’d like to suggest we focus on one of the writers from that period. Plus, I don’t think anyone else in class is going to go for any of those.”

                Well, that was something to think about. If they chose an author everyone else wanted they’d also be competing with classmates as to who did the better job. Mariah liked the idea of competition, but since Andre was an unknown quantity she might be out of luck.

                “So what do you say we keep it to a more difficult genre?” Andre asked. “It might mean a harder job, but I think we can pull it off. Working together? I know we can.”

                Eliot or Doolittle, Hemmingway or Faulkner, Mariah really wasn’t familiar with their works. In all honesty, Faulkner kind of intimidated her. But when Andre read over the name DH Lawrence her interest was piqued. That sounded like a friendlier name.

                “Lawrence,” Mariah said, speaking for the first time, using her pen to point to the name on the list.

                At the sound of her voice, Andre suddenly sat up and grabbed her arm.

                “Ah! Yes! I’m so glad you’re finally participating!” Andre beamed as Mariah’s dropped pen rolled out of sight.

                “My mom had us read his works a long time ago and I really don’t think anyone else will pick him either,” Andre continued.

                Mariah was almost completely panicked. Since Sabria’s usage of her as a child, Mariah had learned to navigate life without allowing anyone to touch her for any reason.

                 No one touched her. Her mother didn’t touch her. Roger didn’t even touch her. His offering of his hand for her to shake today was unusual. Mostly he remembered and respected her boundaries. She’d even managed to get around the crowded school hallways without bumping into anyone. Why was Andre touching her?

                Tears were threatening when she finally managed to stop the panicked voice in her head long enough to whisper “Please let me go.”

                Surprised confusion swept over Andre’s before he finally followed her gaze and looked down.

                Mariah had frozen, her breath shallow and quick, and her mind blank. And then she realized something. His hand was really warm, his palm sweating a little even. The realization of all of this came in a flash and it jarred her.

                Just as she managed to get her breath under control again, just as she was trying to decide if his touch was light or if he had a firm grip (out of curiosity) he released her hand.

                “Sorry,” he muttered, looking at her for only a moment before blinking, rolling his eyes, and looking away.

                Andre resumed reading from the sheet, this time listing aloud the works by Lawrence that were approved by their teacher.

                Slowly, Mariah brought her arm back into herself, hugging it close. The extra warmth on her wrist was already fading as a new thought struck her. She’d liked him touching her. It had been encouraging and friendly and for a crazy moment, it made her stomach flip.

                No more of that, Mariah shook her head, pulling her focus back to a discussion of which works they should choose to focus on.

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Questions anyone? I’m really hoping I explained all that alright. Sorry about Eddie in the first shot too. Of course random townie insists on sitting right behind where I staged that. Lol. (Well, not so random to me. He's actually one oh Phedra's sons. And all of them followed me around town crying that day since that was the day Phedra passed finally.)

And as to the project, I’ll probably go over what all they’re required to do later on. It’s fairly intense, but it has parts of it that should be easier than others, and certainly won’t take up their entire time. However, it will keep Andre around quite a bit. 

Finally- the homework poses are up for grabs if anyone would like them. I needed poses that were a little angrier than the in game animations allowed for and I figured there might be others out there who have sims who hate to do homework too. =D