A\N: Hey thanks for reading this story. I hope you review and tell me what you love about it. Or hate, I'm willing to take it :) -Maximan

Disclaimer: I do not own A.N.T Farm, or the characters in it. Unless I make up my own ones. :)

Chapter: One

Old photos and old memories

Fletcher Quimby was 19 years old. He Still had his same light chocolate-brown hair as he did when he was eleven, and attending the A.N.T. Program in Webster High school. It wasn't long and shaggy anymore. He kept it rather short and slightly flipped and messy at the front. His body was in very good shape. So good that he had all the ladies over him. And although Fletcher was quite short for his age in elementary school, a lot happened in eight years. More than just height.

Back in elementary school, Fletcher had two best friends, Chyna Parks and Olive Doyle. They did almost everything together. But then as they started their senior year of highschool, things started to change. Chyna was focusing hard on her music trying to get signed to a record label, so she barely had time for her friends. Olive was constantly studying to get a 4.0 grade average, even though it was obvious she would. And Fletcher was trying to get accepted in to an art college.

The more time the three friends spent on their academics and careers, the more they didn't have time to spend with each other. After graduation, the three went their separate ways. Fletcher still kept in contact with Chyna, and often spent time together wondering what had happened to Olive. Most of the times they would go to a local cafe' near town.

"So how's your application for that art university going?" Chyna asked Fletcher. Chyna looked almost the same as she did in elementary school, she was just taller and had more colorful streaks in her black silky hair. She slid over his order of decaf coffee, and he gladly took it. That was one of the things Fletcher loved about Chyna, she always wanted to know what was going on in her friend's life. "It's alright I guess..." Fletcher trailed. Chyna raised an eyebrow. "You don't sound too sure about it." She told him. Fletcher ran his left hand through the front if his hair, leaving it messier than before. He often did that when he was worried, or had something on his mind. "No, no!" Fletcher said shaking his head. "The application is great. I actually sent it in already." He explained. Chyna was confused. If the application was fine, then why wasn't he? Clearly, that was the only thing on his mind for the past four months, so what else could? Those question went through Chyna's mind before asking,

"If that's not a problem, then what is?" Fletcher's eyes widened at the question his best friend asked.

"How do you know there's a problem?" Fletcher quickly said. He took his first sip of his decaf coffee, hoping Chyna would change the subject.

"Fletcher, I know that face, and when I see that face, I know there's something going on in your mind." Chyna told him. Now that was the thing Fletcher didn't like about Chyna. She knew when something was rong, and usually wanted to be the one to fix it.

"Seriously Chyna, there is nothing rong!" He exclaimed. But there wasn't denying it. He did have something on his mind. And that thing never spoke to Fletcher since eight years ago. Chyna studied Fletcher's face again. It was clear something was rong, and she had to figure it out. "Fletcher, tell me something that's on your mind." Chyna demanded. Fletcher sighed. "It's not a something. It's a someone." He still didn't give the exact detail, but he did say something.

Chyna gave Fletcher a knowing smile. She knew exactly who he was thinking of. Olive Daphne Doyle, who they both lost touch of eight years ago. Know one knew what she was doing or where she was. The only thing Chyna could was ask Fletcher. She got up from the cafe' booth to throw her plastic cup away. (Chyna wasn't much of a recycler) Fletcher looked at Chyna telling her to take the cup out of the garbage and put it in the proper container. She did as he said then sat back down in front of Fletcher. "Hey, buddy. Why don't we take a walk" Chyna said pulling Fletcher away from the booth and out of the cafe'. He shrugged as she did this.

"I know exactly who your thinking of." Chyna told Fletcher as they walked home. It was slightly raining, which was a surprise for San Francisco. Fletcher had both of his hands in the pocket of his hooded jacket. Chyna held the umbrella over both of them. Although it was very hard to reach over Fletcher because of how much taller he was than Chyna. They continued their conversation after dodging a couple of cars. Fletcher started first.

"Fine. If you know who it is, then tell me." He looked away from Chyna, hoping she wouldn't say it.
"Olive." Chyna said quickly. And before she could say another word, Fletcher instantly jerked his head to face Chyna's and said, "What?!"

"I said Olive. You were thinkin' about our friend Olive." She said in a voice that could tell she was trying to prove something. With wide eyes he responded to Chyna in surprise. "Why would think that..." He trailed. Chyna eyed Fletcher.
"Come on Fletcher, admit it. How could have not been thinking of her when you haven't seen her since about eight years" Chyna told him with a very straight face. She was being totally serious at the moment.
"Fine. You got me!" He whined. "Why do have to make it such a big deal?!"

"I'm not Fletcher. I'm just concerned of you." Chyna rubbed Fletcher's back. Not in a romantic way, but a comforting friendship way. She really did care for about him and didn't like seeing him unhappy. "Can we just go home now?" Fletcher asked Chyna. She nodded her head and they headed toward Fletcher's house. No one said anything to each other the whole way. Fletcher just continued to let thoughts swarm his brain. He no longer was focused on his application to the art university. All he could think about was Olive. Where was she? Why did she leave her two best friends? Does she have a boyfriend?

The last one stuck in his head. He didn't know why that came up in his mind. He and Olive were nothing more than friends in elementary school or in high school, so he shouldn't be worried about if she had a boyfriend or not.

Fletcher's house was small, but it still had an upstairs. He still lived with his parents, as did Chyna (but Cameron had moved out a long time ago). The house had four steps leading up to the dark blue door. Fletcher stepped up to the last step before turning to face Chyna. "Thank you Chyna." Fletcher said. She smiled and gave him a hugged. "Good luck on that application" She told Fletcher.

"Yeah..." His voiced trailed once again. Even though he didn't care about the application that much anymore, he wasn't going to tell her. A second after Chyna left, Fletcher sat down on his porch. He just stared at the sky, practically spacing out. The 19 year old was depressed. He ran a hand through is hair, as he did in the cafe'. He then heard of a voice behind. Fletcher looked behind him realizing he had left the door open. He ignored it.

"Fletcher, is that you?" Mrs. Quimby called to her son from the kitchen. Fletcher rolled his eyes in an irritated way. He lifted himself off the porch and into the house, slamming the door behind him. He found his mother cooking something that smelled awful. Pulling out a chair from the kitchen table Fletcher asked his mom, "Where's dad?" Mrs. Quimby sighed and answered "He's at another one of his business meetings. he won't be back till 10:30"
Fletcher looked at the clock. It was 3:47. His dad wouldn't be back for hours. "What's so important about dad's meetings anyway?" He asked, in a non polite way. "Fletcher I don't like your tone of voice." Mrs. Quimby told her son. "Why don't you go up to your room and work on that art application thingy." She demanded. He rolled his eyes again and left upstairs to his room.

Fletcher's mom often didn't answer his questions that concerned dad. It mad him angrier which resolved to going up to his bedroom. To calm himself down, Fletcher would paint something. But today he didn't feel like doing that.

He opened is bedroom door and found boxs every where. Most of them were labled, "Fletcher Quimby's Stuff". His parents were probably planning on another move. Hopefully Fletcher could move out before then. But his mom didn't want him to leave.

He looked around the room to see what his mom had packed up, when a certain box caught his eye. It read, "Fletcher's Old Photos" What's this? Fletcher thought. He picked up the box and peered inside. He found a bunch of photos of him, Chyna and Olive. Fletcher's eyebrows narrowed. How did his mom find them? He tried to get ride of these photos for years. "Hey mom!" Fletcher yelled, calling for his mother. Mrs. Quimby ran upstairs from the kitchen to her son's bedroom. "What is it, Fletchie?" Mrs. Quimby asked, grinning. Fletcher rolled his eyes annoyed by the pet name, "Fletchie". It was the first time in eight years since she had used it. "Mom, where did you find these?" He told her showing her the box. Mrs. Quimby smiled at her son. "I found them under your bed." She smiled even more. "It's a good thing I did, or they could have gotton thrown away. Your welcome honey!" Mrs. Quimby left without closing the door behind her.

Without hesitation Fletcher threw the stack of pictures across the floor of his bedroom. One of the photos got caught in the heater vent, not far from the door. He crawled across the floor and looked at the photo before pulling it off the vent. It was a nice picture of him and Olive. Probably one from a Webster high dance when they went as friends, while Chyna had a date of her own.

It only took him a second before he grabbed a pair of scissors and sliced the picture right in half. He dropped the two halves leaving Olive's to fly under his dresser drawer. Fletcher didn't bother to go get it.

Olive and I were best friends. Why did she have to leave?

Fletcher pulled out his cell phone from the left coat pocket of his hooded jacket. He took a deep breath while dialing Chyna's number. He heard the sound of a piano in the background. Finally a voice came on the line. "Hello?" Chyna said. She was balancing the phone between her chin and neck while scribbling some music notes on a sheet of paper. "Hey Chyna. It's me Fletcher."

"Hey Fletch! What's up?" Chyna was happy to hear Fletcher had called even after the incident earlier at the cafe'.

"Listen Chyna. I really need to talk to you"

Chyna nodded her head, though Fletcher couldn't even see her. "Okay. Go ahead talk to me." She waited for him to speak.

"No not on the phone. Could we meet up somewhere?"

"Wow it's that serious." She said in a teasing voice.

"So..." Fletcher began.

"Oh right.! How about the park?" Chyna suggested. Fletcher agreed thanked Chyna and headed to his blue sports car parked in front of the Quimby's house.

"So what's on your mind?" Chyna politely asked her best friend. "I don't what's gotten into me Chyna. I can't stop thinking about her."

"You mean. Olive her?" Chyna said eyeing Fletcher. He sighed. "Yes."

"Well why is that a problem. I mean she's your friend."

"That's not it. I'm so freakin tired of not knowing where she is."

"So what your saying is..." Chyna started.

"I think I actually miss her." Chyna looked at Fletcher in surprise.

"What should I do?" Fletcher was hoping Chyna would have a solution like she usually does.

"Find her." Chyna said.


"You miss her so go freakin find her!"


What did you think of the first Chapter? Is it good? Was it what you thought it be like? Or bad?

Please review, I would really appreciate it! (And I would be so happy) I will try VERY hard to update as soon as possible! Please dont rush me :) (chapter 2 and 3 will be up soon!)

Love you guys!

Thanks Xx