A/N: SCHOOL IS OVER!!!!!! Yesterday was the last day of school!! This means I'll have more time to write!! But then, strangely, I'm kind of going to miss seeing my friends every day and going to school. This year was actually really fun. My teachers were awesome, there wasn't really any drama (except for when these two assholes were about to be voted off the volleyball team. They should have been. It was unanimous, we all voted them off but, because one of them has parents who work at the school, they stayed on the team. Assholes). Yeah, but all my teachers this year are going to be there next year so I can see them and stuff, because they were awesome (in fact, one of them is going to be principal next year...).
Anyway, enough talk.
A week later, Artemis was back in school. As she walked through the entrance gates, her bodyguards at her side, some people stared, some people glared, but most people just wondered where she had been for so long. When she walked into her homeroom class, the students erupted into a mass of whispers. Apparently there was a rumor going around that she had been kidnapped by some of her father's political enemies, which was something he just happened to have in abundance.
Butler and Davy, her bodyguards, stood at opposite sides of the room, watching Artemis behind mirrored sunglasses. Butler's suit jacket creased at her elbows when she folded her arms silently over her chest and Davy absentmindedly scratched his shoulder. Artemis thought they must be great poker players.
Rhiannon glanced over at her amusingly, then began writing something on her notebook. She turned the notebook to look over at Artemis. "Your dad finally realized you need babysitters."
Artemis gave her the finger.
Someone put a hand on her shoulder. "The best way to avoid conflict," Butler whispered in her ear, "is to avoid insulting others."
Artemis fumed in her seat while Rhi laughed.
Artemis had never looked good in blue. Neither had she looked good in yellow, orange, or green, for that matter. Not that she cared. Sometimes she enjoyed looking like the living dead. After all, she had inherited most of her appearance from her father. Black hair and pale skin have always gone good in simple black.
So that's what she came out of her room wearing that evening after her father told her they were going out to dinner. He said "dress accordingly" but Artemis III was never really known to dress accordingly to anything. She came out of her room wearing black skinny jeans and a black and white striped tube top with earrings that didn't really match anything in her wardrobe.
As she stepped off the stairs onto the ground floor, Ira, who had been waiting at the base of the stairs, held something out to her. It was flat and rectangular.
"My laptop!" she said, grabbing it out of his hands and hugging it to her chest.
"I was growing tired of hiding it," Ira said. His long hair was pulled back behind his head. "It didn't seem like you would find it any time this century."
"Where the hell was it?"
"Under your mattress."
Artemis glowered at him. "Fucker."
Ira turned around toward the big oak doors leading out to the driveway. Artemis still held the laptop to her chest. "You Americans are all the same," she said, to no one in particular. "Think you're all that. I knew where it was the entire time."
The breeze blew in through the open doors where Ira stood waiting. "Hurry up. Your dad has the car on and he's waiting for you."
June, 2034
This place is shitty. Anyone with half a brain can tell the chandelier is fake and the candles on the walls have light bulbs in them. I mean, our breakfast room is fancier than this shit house. The waiter's mustache looks like a caterpillar.
Don't get me wrong, I eat at fast food burger joints all the time when mom and dad aren't looking, but I can't stand places that pretend to be fancy when it's obvious the waiters are being paid minimum wage.
Dad doesn't allow me to use electronics at the dinner table, even though I can just tell he did when he was my age, so I have to keep my journal under the table, which isn't actually very comfortable.
What also isn't comfortable is the fact Ira just happened to grab the seat next to mine. I feel like telling him to go away but there isn't another seat. Maybe if I switch seats with mom...
Artemis could feel the eyes of someone else burning a hole in her back. She turned sharply. "What do you want?" she said.
Ira moved back a little on his chair but continued to gaze over her shoulder. "What are you writing?"
Artemis looked back at her parents. They were deep in conversation with Loretta—Ettie—and probably wouldn't notice anything short of Artemis stabbing Ira in the eye with her spoon.
"None of your business," Artemis said.
Ira shrugged and returned to the menu.
Giving him one last glare, Artemis turned off her journal, finding it too dangerous to be writing in public like that. She looked around, and frowned. "Mom," she said, "where's Butler and Davy?" Not that she cared, of course...It was just strange not to have them breathing down her neck.
"Hm?" Minerva said, looking up from the menu.
"Butler and Davy?"
Minerva smiled. "Oh, yes," she said. "Your father thought they deserved a night off."
"No they don't."
"I agree. If anything were to happen. I tried to dissuade him, but you know how stubborn your father can be. Besides, their salary comes from his pay check, not mine."
Artemis clenched her jaw. "Yeah, I guess that's understandable. Better to give the bodyguards a night off and risk the life of his daughter than lose a couple hundred euros."
Minerva put a hand on her elbow. "Please, Artemis," she said. "Your father probably knows what he's doing." She smiled. "He is a genius."
"So are you."
Minerva's smile faded. "Artemis. Don't be like that."
"I'm no more fond of those two rip offs than a chicken is to the egg-collector-person-whatever, but I could think of better things to do than to be kidnapped by that midget pixie again," Artemis said. Her voice was sharp enough to cut, and it seems like Minerva felt the cold blade.
"I know that, Artemis. Don't worry. Your father knows what he's doing. Just please let us enjoy this night out, even if you don't."
Artemis looked at her mother with fire in her eyes. Then she pushed her chair out and stood up. "This is bullshit," she said, and stormed away from the table.
A/N: Thanks for reading. By the way, I spent all morning figuring out my average number of days for reading books. Because I keep a book journal in which I write the day I started a book and the day I ended, I was able to get how many days it has taken me to read each book since December 2006. My average for 2007 was 7 days and my average for 2008 was about 5.3 days. I made a line graph and color coded it to see how the averages per month related to each other each year, and I noticed a couple huge mountains in the middle of the valley: in June, July, and August I seem to read a lot slower than in the other months.
I know. I have no life. I take my reading very seriously.
You all know the drill: if you liked it, review. If not...review anyway to tell me what I need to fix. That would make everybody happy!
-Demented Cookies.