B Shows Emotion
"I don't know," her eyes were wide with fear. "I just don't know anymore. The letter was suppose to come today. I don't know."
She shook her head slowly, her long hair falling to her shoulder.
"I got a maybe. A maybe. What's does a maybe mean? I never get maybes. Some people get maybes everyday. But what does a maybe mean?" she looked up at the camra, as if waiting for it to respond.
"I don't want to wait. I want to go to Yale. If I don't," she wiped her eyes with the very tip of her perfectly straightened nail.
Was she crying?
Vanessa zoomed in on the shot. Close to her face.
Her face was perfect though. It didn't show any sigh of tear. She looked tired, like as if she'd not slept for days. But her makeup was done, and her lips were perfectly shaped with the lipliner.
". . . if I don't, where will I go?" she brushed her cheeks with the back of her hand, it back back resting on her laps. She stared down at it. "I can't go to Georgetown. I hate it, and it hates me. Unless it was my last choice. But who ever heard of Georgetown? Who famous ever came out of Georgetown?"
"Nobody that I know of," she quickly added before anybody could answer.
She played with her ring. "Mother said that I could stay back for one more year, and maybe take the SATs over again. But I don't want to, I can't. I did well on the SATs, and how good would it look on my record to say that I took my senior year over again. I just can't."
She looked up at the camra in panick desperation. "And I can't stay in the same room as Yale. She's just . . ." but she stopped herself before she could say anything. "I can't do the college applications over."
"I don't know what to do anymore. I'll just have to wait. I don't wait around, I give orders. But life changes. Right?" she pushed her hair back before it fell on her face. "I know it's really stupid of me to do this interview over, but I just want to do this again. Before everyone leaves. I'm not sure if I'll see this again. If I'll ever see any of my friends again."
She stood up, flattening out her skirt. She picked up her bag, and turned to leave. Her ponytail swayed behind her.
"Hey Blair," Vanessa caught up with her, tugging on her wrist cuffs. She looked up at Blair, who was only a few inches taller. "Thanks for doing this, you were great. Good luck up the letter."
"Thanks," she didn't smile, but she gave Vanessa's wrist a little squeez.
Whoa. Is this is Blair that we know.
Sorry of the short chapter, that's all I came up with. Please review. And I'm sorry if that didn't sound much like Blair, but she's trying, she's slowing her soft side. Please review.