Monday, September 3, 4:02 p.m., the loft
I've got to write fast, so that Dad doesn't see I'm actually using the diary he gave me last week. "So you can just…let those feelings out, you know?" he said when he gave it to me, totally early in the freaking morning, in his underwear. "Things are changing, and…well, I'll let you get back to sleep now."
GOD. Like, my dad's cool and all, but…uuuggghhhhh.
And things aren't really changing that much. Besides the, uh…bi thing.
Okay, maybe that's a really big change. Yeah, my dad's suddenly figured out he's bi, and wants to date, of all people, my…
Oh. My. God. I can't believe I'm writing this.
If I don't write it, does that mean it isn't really true?
HEELLLLLPPPPP.
Okay. Phew. Deep Breaths. You can do this, Ciel.
MYDADISDATINGMYSCHOOLPRINCIPAL.
All right. Now that I see it in writing, it's not…that bad, right? I mean, Dad and Headmaster Diedrich, holding hands…going to movies…eating breakfast…doing it…
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Fine, I admit it. I definitely need a place to let these feelings out. But that place is SO not a diary. It's a freaking MENTAL INSTITUTION.
Tuesday, September 4, 10:30 a.m., Gifted and Talented
Sieglinde and Lizzy are being totally insensitive about it. Sieglinde was all, "but now you have an in with the principal! He'll write you a recommendation to any college you want!" and Lizzy just thought it was "super cute" that my dad was "finding himself" and "just being him." Then Mr. Knox made us all shut up so he could take attendance.
"Attendance," my ass. There are only ten people in this class, so Knox doesn't even read out names—he just counts us and then goes back to his desk to look at J. Crew and car catalogs while the rest of us just do whatever the hell we want.
Lizzy uses class time to work on her giant Sailor Moon fanfiction. She's been writing that thing since we were about six, and I think we're all equally curious and terrified to read it. Technically, she's supposed to get a gym pass so she can practice her fencing. If her mom knew she was up here writing fanfic instead…let's just not even think about it.
Sieglinde is supposed to be tutoring me in Precalc, but really she works on her personal projects while I sit around and listen to Macmillan and Soma yammer on about nothing. Actually, the only people in the class who actually do what they're meant to are that book nerd Clayton and his friend Cheslock, who annoys us all with his stupid violin. "Gifted and Talented" is such a misnomer.
Then Soma's like, "oh my God, Ciel, your aunt's on the Internet!" and he and Macmillan and Lizzy and Sieglinde all crowd around his laptop and make a huge deal, like Aunt An isn't on the Internet all the time anyway. She lives in Cattalia, this random country near France, and is some kind of important person in their government. Whatever. Since my mum died and Dad decided to move his stuffed animal business up to England, I only see her when I go down to the Chateau for the summer. I don't even care.
"It says she's coming to London today!" Lizzy squeals, and I do a literal double take, like a cartoon character, and I'm like, "WHAT?!"
Because when my aunt comes up to London, as rare as that is, she should TELL me, right?! I'm her NEPHEW. She always says I'm like a son to her. I bet Dad knows, and probably Headmaster Diedrich (ugghh), so why shouldn't I?
"'Madame Durless says she has some important private business to attend to soon after she lands,'" Sieglinde reads. "That must mean you, Ciel! Oh my God, she's going to make you move to Cattalia!"
"NO!" scream Lizzy and Soma together. Lizzy jdfakjnnIRL'ADSLKF e
Later, English
Lizzy tackled me and started crying, so I had to throw my journal down real quick and stash it under the desk with my foot. At that point Clayton started yelling at us for being loud. Then Edward started yelling at Clayton for being such a tightass, and Cheslock came out of the closet (LOL), and started playing arpeggios super loud to annoy them, and at that point Mr. Knox had to step in and threaten us all with Y's. All because of my stupid Aunt an. God, she ruins everything.
Anyway, how bad would it really be if I had to move to Cattalia? I mean, I wouldn't have to deal with Soma or Macmillan anymore…Edward wouldn't be able to try and beat me up…no more stupid Precalc and stupid Latin and stupid Chemistry and…
Who am I kidding? Life would be just as bad in Cattalia. I would still be a skinny, one-eyed prepubescent (I'm thirteen, for God's sake. Can I get just ONE TINY growth spurt?) with sticks for limbs. My mum would still be dead. My dad would still be dating a guy who once gave me a week's detention for calling him an Ugly Lard-Tank. Lizzy would still be my "best gal pal" and not my girlfriend, and I'd still be stupid, slow and untalented. Plus, there would be the added issue of…
Well, I don't even want to think about him right now.
5:13 p.m., grotesquely fancy men's bathroom at the St. George Hotel in London
HELP!
HELPHELPHELPHELPHELPPPPPP
IS THIS HOW I DIE? AM I ALREADY DEAD AND THIS IS HELL?
Seriously. I know I can be…well, okay, I can be a total brat. And mean. And borderline sadistic, according to my dad and my teachers and the school psychologist. But I DO NOT DESERVE THIS.
SERIOUSLY.
Wednesday, September 5, 1:00 a.m., the loft
I can't sleep. And it's crazy to even think this, but I just got this weird feeling that I might be able to eventually if I just grow some balls and write down what happened earlier, once and for all, in as much detail as I can manage without becoming suicidal.
So by the time school let out, Aunt An was in the city, so of course I had to be forced down to the St. George Hotel in her god-awful limo so I could have high tea with her and her horrible butler, whose name I don't even want to write down.
Oh, God.
I won't be able to sleep if I don't write it, will I?
Okay, FINE. His name's Sebastian.
And I hate him.
Anyway, I was feeling stupid having such a fancy meal in a fancy place with fancy people when I'm just in my school uniform, when I noticed Aunt An was looking at me really weird. So I was like, "What did I do now?" because I thought maybe I'd used the wrong fork or something, and she just welled up with tears all of a sudden and put her hand on top of mine like we were in a freaking soap opera. And then I happened to look up at Sebastian and HE was staring down at me all smug, like he knew something about me, you know? And then I totally started to panic.
"Ciel, honey," Aunt An began in that gross voice she only uses when she's just got done watching Design Star on HGTV, "there's something I've got to tell you."
I held my breath.
"You know how I was sick all last year, and then I had to go in to have surgery?"
"Yeah. But you're fine now." I picked up this weird biscuity-looking thing and tried to eat it without letting her or Sebastian see just how shaky my hands were.
"Well, hon, the cancer was…um, in my special girl parts, if you know what I mean. So the surgery I had to have was. Ahem. Um…"
You know how in cartoons, when someone realizes something really crazy, their eyes suddenly get all wide? Well, I literally felt my eyes widen, just like that. And I also started choking.
"Anyway," she continued, "I can't have kids now. And that's especially bad for me, because. Um." She took a really dramatic breath. "Ciel, I'm the queen of Cattalia, actually, and this situation makes you my closest living heir, so…"
I didn't hear exactly what she said after that, because I was choking so badly that Sebastian had to come stand behind me and do the Heimlich maneuver with his filthy, white, sarcasm-encrusted gloves, and I ended up ejecting a half-eaten pastry from my throat all the way across this fancy-pants dining room. Luckily, it landed on the floor and not on someone's table. But still, like, everyone saw.
"What?" I said, still coughing a little. I was all sweaty too, and little tears were coming out of the corners of my eyes.
"You're a prince, Ciel. Or, I should say, His Royal Highness Ciel Vincent Durless Phantomhive, Prince of Cattalia."
!
I think I died for a second or two? Or at least stopped breathing. Then I was like, "SHUT. UP." And I started crying for real. That's when I ran into the bathroom.