Author's Note: So. I've not been away that long, and I couldn't stay away(: My Tiva fandom isn't taking off anymore. I'm coming back to my lovely reviewers and favorite people in the whole, wide world! :D I've missed you no longer than I've been away. So. I know you loved Cancer Schmancer and this is definitely off course from it. I'm hoping you like it just as well(: Read and after, review! Or not chapters, remember!

"Ma! Ma! Please? Will you listen to me?" A only fourteen year old Fran screamed out to her mother. "Please? I don't want to go. I want to stay here with you and daddy. I want to stay here with Val and Danny. This is my home, Ma!"

"No, it's not. We don't want you!" Sylvia's words rang through the air like a shotgun going off miles away. "You are a mistake in our eyes, Francine. I'm not letting you stay here."

It's been years – Fran's been manipulated – She's been in messes that most kids haven't seen. Her mother and her had been fine up until she turned thirteen. Sylvia had made it plainly clear that she no longer wanted her to daughter to stay with her – that she didn't want her. With no other family, besides the Jewish in Israel – Fran had nowhere else to go. Her mother understood that, but she didn't want her staying in their home any longer. She made it obviously clear she was no longer welcome here.

"Now! Your going to England to enroll in Eton. Frieda is paying for it – so money is no issue for this. She's offered to have you there with her, in the summers." Sylvia threw her daughter's bag that she had packed while she was at school. "Your leaving tonight."

"Ma!" Though she is definitely done arguing with her. It's no use with her mother. I'll never get her to listen. Why would I want to stay here anyway? Where my parents don't want me. She grabbed her bags from the floor, moving swiftly out of the apartment and out of their lives forever.

"Honey, your going to have a wonderful time here in England. It's a very beautiful place and lots of people attend Eton," she knew that her niece is definitely scared of the new place. America – being the safest place she knew – well, the safest place for Flushing, had it's perks. Most people fit in there, now she doesn't know anybody. "We'll go ahead and get you settled into your room here at Eton."

Fran attended the ceremony about the rules, the restrictions, the classes, and all of the other such wonderful things of Eton. I'm not going to like it here. She still followed her aunt through the corridors of what felt like prison. She didn't belong in a place like this, she belonged back in some ratty apartment in Flushing, Queens – where no one had class or skills. I hate my parents, but I would rather go live on the streets than here in England.

"So. Honey. Are you going to be alright, now?" Her aunt Frieda dropped her bags off just inside her dorm room. "I know this is all new to you, but everything is going to be alright. Just look how I turned out," Fran rolled her eyes and stepped inside. "You know you can call if you need anything. Weekends you are free to come home with me." Frieda moved to hug her niece, closely. "I love you, sweetheart. I'm so sorry about your parents."

Fran hadn't really been unhappy enough to cry until Frieda mentioned it to her. Sure, she thought about it, but she never thought she would have to hear her own aunt let her know that her parents surely didn't want her. I'm not telling anyone about my life in Queens. I'm acting as if I've lived here most of my life and just attending Eton because my parents are too rich and too far away on business most of the time to keep me. Nanny's are definitely out of the question. Fran nodded her head to her aunt, symbolizing that she's okay – though she's not.

"I'll be okay, Aunt Frieda. I love you, too." She reached her small, fragile arms around her heavy- weighted aunt. "See you this weekend."

She had never felt so alone as Frieda turned to leave her standing alone in her dorm room. It definitely feels like prison and I don't like the people here. She slowly sighed to herself as she dragged her own bags over to her side of the room – apparently she's already got a roommate. Oy. This is going to be harder than I thought. She began to fold her clothes neatly into the rightful spots of the dresser.

"Hi, I'm Maxwell Sheffield. I couldn't help but notice when you came walking through the halls," he slowly made his way into the new woman's room. "You are quite a head turner."

"Why? Because of my aunt?" They both shared a short laugh, her's coming to a closing dry. "I'm Francine Fine," she pronounced as if she were French. "It's nice to meet someone who actually speaks here."

"Well, someone with your kind of nasal passages, I would say your definitely made for talking." Maxwell helped her finish unpacking her things. "So. Your new to Eton?" He placed himself down onto her bed, "what made you decide to return here?"

Fran tried to remember the item that had played on her mind, "oh. My parents are always away on business and, um – they didn't want me to be under a nanny's supervision... So. They sent me here. I know you saw my aunt, but she's not really capable of taking care of me. Since her husband dropped dead three days after she married him," she laughed a little.

"Wow. You've got quite a life. As for your aunt – that's a little,"

"Terrifying?"

"Yeah." Maxwell sat staring at the floor for the longest time before looking back up. "You know. I've been here for a couple of years. I can show you around the campus if you like. It's really not as large as it looks."

"Sure. I'd like that." Fran smiled down on him, moving to sit beside of Maxwell on her bed.

"Then it's a date."

Author's Note: And most people said I couldn't have a little fun? Wow! You've underestimated me(: I think I'm going to enjoy writing this a whole lot more than I enjoyed writing Cancer Schmancer. I hope you've all like the kind of – what should I call it? - filler chapter? Reviews always bring the newer chapter faster! :D Remember that. Tell me what you think I should do with Fran and Max next – I'm sure I can figure something out. (: