Isabella was nearly complete with her second week of school, feeling fairly confident about how everything had gone so far. Whenever Mary or one of the boys (not including Freddie) asked her if she'd made any friends or considered joining any extracurricular activities, Isabella would lie and tell them yes to both things.

To her, it was ok to lie in this way, because it was protecting them. If it made the adults feel better to assume she was acclimating beyond warming up a desk seat for eight hours before walking outside the moment the final bell rang, so be it.

After all, she was confident she'd be back home a bit after the new year, and she could make enough excuses until then to have them not meet her "friends." After all, in her mind, there was no way in hell Freddie would ever let her have a friend over, even if she had one. He barely tolerated her being there, and she couldn't imagine him opening the door wide enough to let another young body inside.

"Do you want to stop at Laurent's Cafe before I drop you off? It's Friday," Joe smiled as the two hit the road.

"Would love that," Isabella grinned back. "Is that why you served oatmeal and fruit this morning? You knew we'd stop?"

"Hell yeah. Porridge and fruit- Freddie's least favorite breakfast. And then when he gets back home from the bank with Mary, I'm gonna make sure there's an empty cup and a couple empty bags on the table so he knows we went but didn't bring him anything."

"And why are you egging him on?"

Joe honked his horn at the idle car in front of him. "Get a move on you dummy! I dunno, sometimes I like to piss him off."

"Is that all?" Isabella raised a brow.

"He could at least give you the time of day, and he hasn't," Joe leaned back in his seat a bit. "I don't get it, it's been two weeks now since he's gotten back from Munich. What is the hold up?"

That last bit finished as more of a question to himself than one to Isabella.

"Please don't tell Mary I said this, but I think he's pretty scary and he's only getting more scary every day."

Joe reached his free arm over and settled it on the back of Isabella's seat. "My dearest kiddo, that man wouldn't hurt a house spider. And I know that because Phoebe killed one once and he practically cried and wouldn't talk to the man for a whole day."

"So, what you're saying is, I matter less than a bug to Freddie Mercury," Isabella fake pouted her bottom lip.

"You get what I mean," Joe rolled his eyes. "I'm not saying you guys should be best friends by now, but I think you two could be really good for each other. You could give him... a purpose."

Isabella was truly confused now, choosing to stare out the window at the passing buildings and shops than look in Joe's direction. This was too heavy of a conversation for seven thirty in the morning.

"He has you guys, he has Garden Lodge, money, fame, talent... loved by thousands." Isabella visibly used her fingers to count each one. "I doubt Freddie needs any more purpose than he already has."

"I mean this nicely, kiddo, when I say I know him a lot better than you do."

Isabella reddened a bit. "True. Sorry for acting like I know everything."

"Don't be sorry!" The man pinched her cheek as they pulled into an open spot on the side of the road. "We'll resume this another time- let's kick it and get ourselves some croissants."

~~~

Isabella was in math class later that day when it all went sour.

"I'm going to count 1-5 as I point to each of you. Please pay attention and try to remember your number."

Isabella waited for her elderly teacher, Mrs. Whittaker, to get to her, and she made a mental note that she was in group number three. She glanced up at the clock while Mrs. Whittaker continued to go through the rest of her classmates, extremely ready for the weekend. She wasn't sure of what was in store exactly, but if there was anything she did know after spending a handful of weekends with the Garden Lodge crew, it would be both fun, relaxing, and filled with new experiences.

"Mrs. Whittaker," a tall, curly haired brunette named Richard raised his hand. He was in the front row, so it had been about thirty seconds since Mrs.
Whittaker had given him a number. "I forgot already."

Mrs. Whittaker closed her eyes for a moment. "You're in the front row, Richard. One, two, three, four. Fourth one in. Next time, think for a second before you speak."

Half the class snickered. Isabella, for one, didn't find it funny.

"Sorry, ma'am," the boy sunk a bit into his chair.

"That's quite alright," Mrs. Whittaker softened a bit, which Isabella had noticed over the weeks. The woman could be tough, but not consistently.

Isabella hated math, so she was grateful the woman was nice at all. The subject stressed her out completely and she was dreading her first exam, which was the following Tuesday.

"Alright, class, group one in that corner, group two over there, group three on the back left, group four on the back right, and group five near the door," Mrs. Whittaker pointed to various parts of the room.

Like little soldiers following orders, Isabella and her classmates immediately began shuffling desks and chairs around, forming their groups. Isabella gripped her pencil a bit tighter when she noticed she hadn't gotten very lucky with her group.

There were two popular girls, one popular boy, and two other boys who she had seen goof off in class time and time again. In subjects like math, Isabella had always relied on friends or classmates who were good at it to help her out and direct her. Her parents weren't very good at math and it was often her sister who would help her with homework at the dinner table.

They'd argue and fight but they'd get it done.

Mrs. Whittaker walked around the classroom now, handing out thick packets.

"Now, I want you all to do well on Tuesday, which is why I am giving you an hour today to work in groups to fill out a study guide I've put together. I will hand out the answer sheets at the end of class so you can check to see your progress, but for now, I expect you to work away and show each other what you've learned the past month."

The past month... Isabella thought to herself, feeling anxiety bubble in her chest. Isabella joined school late, and therefore had to do a lot of catchup to get to where the class was. She was caught up on homework but behind in really having the equations down. Nobody at Garden Lodge could do algebra very well, and Isabella's school, despite the price, didn't have many resources for help. Students there were simply expected to do well and not have their hands held. If they couldn't do the work, then they weren't "smart" enough to be there.

Nobody had told her that directly, but the way the teachers had acted in her classes told her that loud in clear. Mrs. Whittaker was an anomaly.

"Any of you know what we're doing?" Billy, Popular Boy #1 leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his dirty blonde locks.

"Hell if I know," Jack, the dark-haired Popular Boy #2 shrugged. "Jenna?"

"Haven't turned in this week's homework, because I'm still stuck on last week's."

Popular Boys #1 and #2 didn't even bother to ask the other two boys if they could help, because they were already making paper airplanes out of their study packets.

In this moment Isabella felt invisible, which was a blessing and a curse. It sure didn't feel good, but she was glad to not be considered. The only one of the group who was looking at her on and off was Jack, but it was easy enough for her to ignore it.

The feeling didn't last long. After about twenty seconds of Jenna, Billy, and Jack looking at each other, Jenna finally turned to Isabella, her blue eyes looking at her curiously.

"Hey new girl," Jenna cocked her head a bit, her straight brown hair dangling long past her shoulders. "You know how to do any of this?"

Isabella gulped. "Some of it. Like, I know how to calculate area- so the second section, uhm, I can mostly do quadratic expressions-"

"You know," Jack interrupted Isabella, a small smirk playing on his lips. "My dad told me that you're living with Freddie Mercury from Queen."

Isabella's breath got caught in her throat.

"The poofter?" Billy leaned forward, eyes wide and totally amused now.

"How did you...?" Isabella blurted, in complete shock now.

It hadn't registered with her that Billy had used a slur to describe Freddie. She had never heard the word before and asking what it meant was now on the bottom of the list of questions. The first was how in the world Jack had found this out.

"My dad knows people," Jack said cooly. "As do the parents of all the students here. What are you doing here?"

"W-what do you mean?" Isabella stammered, pinching the skin of her wrist now with her thumb and pointer finger. She was trying so hard to act normal.

"Did he adopt you or something?" Jenna interrupted, looking extremely interested in Isabella now. "Are you guys related?"

"No and no. Can we get going on the packet?" Isabella breathed. The room felt like it was getting hotter by the second.

The other two in the group put their paper airplanes down, as clearly this conversation was a lot more interested than building paper wings adorned with x's and y's and triangles.

"Nah, I bet he's doing this so he can look good to the press. A proper family man. My father says he has sex with men constantly."

Isabella's classmates all scrunched their noses at Jack's comment, as if they had just been told the most gory of stories. Isabella remained stone faced, something she had become quite good at over the last ten months when it was necessary.

Like a guardian angel, Mrs. Whittaker swooped in, peering over at the group's still-blank worksheets. "How are you all getting on?"

Isabella sighed in relief as they all got a lecture about not taking advantage of the time they were given to work on this, and each of them were then redistributed one by one to another group.

What the hell is happening... Isabella thought to herself, dragging her feet across the room to group number two.

~~~

"Have you seen much of Isabella since dinner?" Mary asked Phoebe that evening from her spot across the television. BBC Nine O'Clock News was just starting.

Freddie being home on a Friday night was a total rarity. The man looked up from his game of scrabble with Joe, only to dart his eyes back down to the table and pretend he wasn't listening. The two men were sat in front of the glass coffee table, sitting on the floor with alcohol and various nuts in a bowl for them to snack on.

"No, actually," Phoebe mused as he went through Freddie's diary, seeing what needed to be done for the weekend and what to expect for the week following. "We spoke a bit while we did the washing, but then she excused herself... said she had to go study. Big maths exam on Tuesday."

"But it's Friday!" Joe exclaimed. "She can study on Sunday and Monday. We've gotta get the kiddo some friends."

"She's simply making good use of the ten thousand pound check I just signed last month," Freddie surprised the group by chiming in, picking up his glass. "I'm on board."

"If you're on board, why don't you go check on her? See how she's doing?" Joe challenged.

"She doesn't need me, nor does she like me," Freddie said quietly, eyes fixated on a wooden letter 'B' tile.

Mary frowned, turning completely towards him. "Freddie, that is simply not true."

"It is," he hissed. "You all act like she's the second coming of Christ or something, and in turn, you have her eating out of the palm of your hand. I'm the smart one, anyway, because she's going to leave soon and I'm going to pay it no mind. You're all getting yourselves too bloody attached. I've said this already."

The only sound in the room was the news anchor reading about the approaching cold and flu season, and how you can best be prepared for it.

Joe was the first to break the silence among the adults. "You just haven't gotten to know her yet, Freddie. How about this- if I win tonight, you have to go upstairs and talk to her. Help her study."

"Is Freddie even good at mathematics?" Phoebe blurted, not realizing he said it out loud before it was too late. "I mean- I know you were more focussed on the arts."

Freddie glowered at him, while Joe held in a snicker.

"I may balance the checkbooks," Mary interrupted, standing up to change the channel on the television. "But Freddie's always been good with numbers. Aren't you, darling?"

Freddie nodded, taking Mary's compliment to heart. "Numbers, and words. Like when I beat you tonight, Joseph. I have no problem agreeing to this because I am certain I'm going to win. Look how many points I'm already up! How can you even hope that you'll come back, you silly tart?"

"Eat your words, Mercury," Joe scooted closer to the table, and got started on the Scrabble comeback of the century.

For the next forty five minutes, Joe pulled out all the stops for Isabella, throwing out words like sequoia, nymph, quiche, and anaemia. Mary and Phoebe had to spend the entire time pretending like they weren't desperate for Joe to win. This was their chance to get Freddie properly acquainted with Isabella. It was ridiculous to them that it had to come like this, but they would take anything at this point.

Phoebe, Joe, and Mary all watched in fascination as Freddie stood up without a word, his bare feet padding up the wooden stairs.

How they'd kill to be a fly on the wall in Isabella's bedroom.