Iɴ A Nᴇᴡ Wᴏʀʟᴅ| Gɪʀʟ Mᴇᴇᴛs Wᴏʀʟᴅ Fᴀɴғɪᴄ-ON HOLD

Girl Meets Crazy Hat

I do not own Girl Meets World or any of the characters

Amabella babbled to Lucas and I about the most random things. She would point to the couch and start squealing or would point into the kitchen and babble excitedly. Lucas and I would point at things and she would follow our fingers and start laughing maniacally.

    "So... Lucas... you ever going to tell me when you are asking out Riley?" I asked innocently while still playing with Amabella.

    "And time for school," Lucas dragged me out the front door as soon as I got Amabella in her crib.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "Belgium, 1831--"

    "No!" I screamed at Mr.Matthews

    "In 1831, Belgium--"

    "No!" I screamed again.

    "Revel?" He asked me.

    I pointed to Riley, "Riley has a question."

    He rolled his eyes and looked at Riley, "Riley?"

    "What's my thing?" She asked.

    "What's your thing?"

    "What am I going to be, Dad? Am I gonna be OK?"
    Mr. Matthews knelt down next to her desk, "Riley, listen to me very carefully."

    "Ok."

    "In 1831, Belgium declared its independence from the Netherlands."

    Riley's face started to crumble up, like Amabella's did when she was about to cry. "What will people be thinking of me if I end up living in a subway?"

    "What if nothing happens for her, sir?" Maya cut in a little worried. "Riley can't end up like that. She's Revel and I's meal ticket." I nodded along.

    "What the-- I just saw you girls at breakfast!"

    "Wat er in ons land is gebeurd?" Farkle yelled out in some alien language.

    "Calm down, Farkle. You're speaking in Dutch again." Damn not an alien language.

    "Oh echt?" Farkle slapped himself and tried again. "Mi educación no debe basarse.." Farkle started with another alien language.

    "No, no, no." Mr. Matthews laughed. "You slapped yourself way too hard. You went all the way to Spanish."

    Farkle slapped himself again, "My education should not be based on your daughter's moods."

    Mr. Matthews shrugged. "Neither should mine, but it is! Guys, a daughter asks her father, 'What's my thing?' This question will resonate in the hearts of all parents." Small glance at me. "From the moment it's asked until the day their child feels comfortable in the world. Pretty soon you will all join the workforce. What's your thing? What do you aspire to? How will you affect people? That's the only history that matters."

    "Thank you, Daddy."

    Farkle whimpered, "Thank you, Daddy."

    "All right, guys, tell you what. Let's split the class into two separate businesses and see how you do for yourselves. We'll see if anyone's got anything to worry about, OK?"

    I mimicked a cartoon character and tapped my fingers together evilly, "Excellent." Then in my normal voice I asked again. "What will our companies be?"

    "Doesn't matter. Uh.. Muffins, OK?" He grabbed a muffin from his lunch box and held it up as if we didn't know what it was.

    "You two are going to be 'Riley and Farkle's Muffins.' That'll be your thing for the week."