Long review:
Effie Kensington is used to being picked on, and is particularly vulnerable after the death of her parents, and her plunge into poverty. But when Nick Daley forces her to stay at the museum with him one night, her life takes a turn for the better, especially when she befriends the Pharaoh Akhmenrah, and reminds him what it is to be a father. But when an unwelcome ghost from his past and a new enemy to the museum makes a surprise appearance, Effie finds both the people she loves and her very own life on the line.
This story takes place just after the first film. I will try and keep the characters as accurate as possible. I can't remember how old Nick was, for the record, but I think he could pass as eleven.
Thank you for reading.
"Very good, Effie. You've clearly got a very good grasp of the subject." Mr. Dewan, the History head of department teacher noted, pleased, as she set down a test paper on Effie's desk. Effie picked it up and scanned through the questions and her answers, happy to see nice green ticks next to the majority of them. She flicked through the pages until she was at the last, and her gaze flicked to her grade marked at the bottom.
A +
Her freckled cheeks lifted in a bright smile, and her light ginger hair – pulled back into a ponytail – waved as she shook her head proudly, her chin held high. Tara Manesti, sitting a seat to the right, caught the manoeuvre, and her thin lips pressed together into a sneer.
"What'd you get, Tea Drinker? Another A plus, plus?"
"No, just one plus." Effie replied loftily, privately wishing her voice didn't sound so plummy and 'Queen's English.' It was a neon sign over her head, asking for her to be picked on.
"Geek." Tara hissed, her tone stained with jealously as she hid her own C – graded test flat against the desk. "It's only because the teachers feel sorry for you, you know. Cos' you're adopted and everything."
"I'm sure." Effie replied sarcastically, before filing her test away neatly and pushing her folder into her satchel, offering Tara Manesti and her attitude no more attention.
Effie Kensington was used to being picked on – what with her 'foreign' upbringing and clever mind. Even when she had lived back in Southampton, England, she had come across problems at her local comprehensive with her 'posh' accent and plain looks. Now that she lived in New York, nothing had really changed, aside from the fact that she was considered 'different' for being English full stop. Tara Manesti had had it in for her from day one, when she had made her look foolish in front of a group of her friends.
"History is so boring!" Effie had heard Tara complain in the corridor, surrounded by her loyal band of followers. "I mean, this year we're doing something really stupid about the 'futon' empire or whatever. I mean, who really gives a damn about Egypt anyway?"
Effie had laughed aloud, presuming the girl was joking, until she realised no body else had joined in.
"What's so funny?" Tara had demanded, her botchily made up eyes narrowing in distaste, as if Effie was nothing but a bad smell to her.
"I'm sorry, it's just, I though you were kidding when you mentioned the 'futon' empire." Effie had begun, laughing nervously. She took a step closer, unsure to get out of what she had started. Shakily, she rushed onwards. "I presume you meant the Ottoman Empire – and that originated from where Turkey would be, not Egypt, although I can see where you were confused, what with it sharing a name with furniture and all."
"Oh, way to go stupid!" One of the boys had taunted in Tara's direction, who flushed, humiliated.
"Yeah, everyone knows that!" Another girl had jeered, although Effie suspected that she hadn't known the mistake until it had been pointed out.
Tara, red faced and angry, attempted to brush off the situation with a few jibes at Effie's accent and appearance, until her group lost interest and began to talk about other things. But as she had backed away, Effie had seen the glint in Tara's eye, and realised that she had perhaps already ruined whatever chances she ever had at fitting in. Effie hadn't meant to offend anyone; she just couldn't help but correct people if she heard them makes mistakes. And she was never really patronising; she always strived to be helpful, but her classmates never seemed to see it that way. They thought she was showing off – rubbing her knowledge in their faces.
The sound of the bell ringing brought Effie back to the present, and she scooped her books into a pile, before packing them into her bag. Her stomach rumbled in complaint, and she was glad for the long afternoon at home stretching before her, as well as the imminent dinner cooked up by her culinary degree adopted mother.
"Remember guys, money for the field trip is in for tomorrow!" Mrs. Dewan called, and a few of the students remaining rolled their eyes and sighed in distaste. "Come on everyone, it's the Natural History Museum – it's interesting!"
"Right." Effie heard Tara drawl sarcastically, a few of her friends already cramped around her. Effie picked up her bag, slinging it over her shoulder.
"Effie, are you going to come along? To the museum?" Mrs. Dewan called after her, and she stopped by the door, looking back.
"Um, maybe. Perhaps not." She said hesitantly, shrugging her shoulders.
"You don't have to pay for lunch, you can bring your own." Mrs. Dewan pointed out quietly, her deep green eyes probing at Effie's face. "And if money is a problem, we can talk to Principal Sylvester about it-"
"It's alright. I'm fine." Effie interrupted quickly, backing out of the door with a forced smile, which she let slip from her face as soon as she was out of sight. The truth was, money was becoming a problem for Effie's new family, after her adopted father had been made redundant the year before. He hadn't been able to find a new job, and the strain of the situation was beginning to show in the family's bank numbers.
Having money problems was a situation very new to Effie, as her true family had been one of wealth and class. Her father had had a good position in the Labour Party* – earning a hefty amount each month – and her mother had been an heiress to large amounts of money. After they had died, her parents had left quite a large chunk of it to her, of course, but at eleven years old she couldn't touch it for another seven years at least.
"Hey, Tea Drinker! Where did you get your clothes from – your grandma?"
Tara's joke wasn't particularly funny, but her friends howled never the less. Effie sighed and looked down at what she was wearing – a checked tartan skirt, knee length of course, white knee socks, a brown cardigan over a plain cream blouse, and sensible brown patent leather shoes on her feet. She looked very Susan Pevensie from the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe film.
"Seriously, you look like you've stepped out of a British time warp." Tara went on, tossing her long brown hair over her shoulders. "All you need now are glasses and a World War Two gas mask." More laughing.
"I'm surprised, Tara." Effie replied, eyeing her attackers own clothing. (Indecently short skirt, plain blue t-shirt, flip flops…) "That you would even know what World War Two was, what with your C - - average in most of your classes."
Tara pursed her lips, painted of course with a colour that really didn't match her olive skin shake, and crossed her arms over her slightly chubby waist, in a manner that seemed too fake for an eleven year old. Her bottom lip stuck out slightly in a pout as she scrambled for something to say in return as Effie glided past, her attention elsewhere.
"Geek!" Tara settled for lamely, before sauntering off, her posse at her heels.
"How very original." Effie muttered to herself, before heading to her locker to collect her things. She scooped them into her bag, relieved that nothing had been stolen that day, and shut her locker with a bang.
"Hey, Effie." Rachel Monte called shyly from the locker beside her, her light blonde hair tucked neatly behind her ears.
"Hello Rachel. How are you?" Effie greeted the girl, pleased for the company. They weren't friends, exactly, but they both accepted one another's similar status's as the geeky, plain, and un-cool girls of the grade.
"I'm good. Look, I really need company tomorrow at the museum," Rachel began in a hurry, stuttering slightly as she spoke. "So if you need me to I could lend you the money, and you could pay me back later?"
"It's all right, really. I've got a bit of pocket money left that I can use. I'm definitely going to come."
"Oh good!" Rachel breathed a sigh of relief, her rather pretty face lighting up in glee. "I really didn't want to end up there on my own."
"Don't worry." Effie said absently as they approached the main entrance of the school, outside of which the buses were waiting. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bye!" Rachel called, skipping off towards one of the buses as Effie prepared to walk, shifting her bag onto a more comfortable position on her back. She had been planning on buying some newer clothes with her pocket money, but Rachel's pleas had swayed her into spending it on the trip. She had never been to the Natural History Museum – In New York, at least - but had heard that it was definitely something. Nicky – a friendly boy in her grade whose father was the night guard - said it was anyway, and had offered to take her along one night. She had refused quickly, her knee-jerk reaction to being given anything when she knew she had nothing in return, and his disappointment had surprised her.
"It better be worth it, Nick." She murmured, scowling to herself, before setting off on the long walk home to Brooklyn.
*For those of you who don't know, the Labour Party is a political party in Great Britain, which the previous Prime Ministers Tony Blair and Gordon Brown were the heads of.
If you didn't realise, Effie is quite grown up for her age in both manner and speech. As for her appearance, picture Lindsay Lohan in the Parent trap, but a little paler and with fewer freckles. (You could even use the English Lindsay in it for the accent)
I don't know how the grade system works in America, so if anyone could tell me what grade you would be in if you were eleven that would be great. I'm guessing it wouldn't be high school though. What comes before that? I only know the English system, I'm afraid.
Reviews would be brilliant – even if you want to tell me that it's utter rubbish and not worth reading. I accept flames and fans alike.
Please, please, please review. Two reviews for another chapter!
RageRomania xxx