A/N Just so you all know, this isn't actually about the Princess Diaries but is in the style of. It's quite a long entry but please don't be put off! Luv y'all!
Disclaimer: I own everything in this story, so there's nothing to disclaim!
Friday September 2nd, 11pm, my room
The dictionary definition of outcast, as written by the Oxford English Dictionary Concise Edition 2003 is as follows:
My full name is Posey Mary Clementine Warren. Yes I'm telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, that is actually my name. The reason behind my ridiculous title is due to my father, and I love him so much for it. Not. When I was a tiny, innocent 6lb baby my mother decided she would leave home for a bit, quote 'to try and settle herself after this exciting and life changing event'. If it was that exciting then why did she leave! Anyway, my father was then left to cope with me for a whole year until my mother returned, and boy did he have trouble. Never in his life had my dad been taught how to care for a young child, just my luck. To start with he organised a christening, a christening for crying out loud, which now makes me a fully fledged Christian for life, great. He took me along to this christening and named me there and then, didn't even think of contacting my own mother (but then again he did think she'd left for good). I'm sure even the vicar looked shocked when my father declared my name to be, I swear I can remember him smiling as if somewhat amused. Anyhow, before the christening my dad was incredibly stuck for a name to give me, and unfortunately he happened to be sat next to a bouquet of flowers at the time which meant the first word that came to mind was Posey, and it expanded from there. I just thank God that he hadn't been in a supermarket when deciding what to call me. I could've ended up with a name like Maltesers or Walkers but fortunately my father doesn't have much of an appetite for shopping, so I thankfully avoided being named after some brand of crisps. It just goes to show that there is a God in he world when you need one. What about the rest of my name, I hear you ask. Well Mary is after my dad's mum who died before I was born and Clementine, because my mum likes that kind or orange. I mean come on, Clementine for God's sake, I was named after a fruit. But thinking about it, it could have been worse. I think, maybe.
When I was just one year old my mother returned from her little holiday, to the surprise of my father and was accidentally conceived yet again. It is only recently that I have learned my brother is here by mistake, and boy what a big mistake he was. So yeh, my brother is only a year younger than me, 12 to be precise and is a right pain in the - I won't go there. He goes by the name of Daniel Christopher Warren and has blue eyes and blond hair, the complete opposite to myself who's hair is midnight black with eyes to match. Seriously, I can make myself look like a goth without even trying. Anyway, my brother prefers to be called Danny or DC but I call him Daniel Christopher none the less. It gets on his nerves but what do I care, I get on everyone's nerves. After all I am an outcast. Though what I can't understand is why my brother gets a normal name! Why do I have to named after a citrus fruit and a basket of flowers when he can simply be called Daniel. It is so not fair, just because my mum was away when I was named doesn't mean I have to be called something this ridiculous. From now on therefore I have decided to change my name, to Paige. This is because I am sick and tired of people taking the mick out of me, it has to stop. I've decided upon Paige because the one from the TV programme Charmed looks a bit like me. She also has dark hair and pale skin and although she's a witch she doesn't let that stop her from conquering the world.
So that's the history behind me and my little brother. I best get some beauty sleep now though, not that it's ever going to make me beautiful. More later.
Saturday September 3rd, 8am, my room
Now where was I up to, oh yeh, my life story. Well now it continues on the silver screen for all to see, honestly I don't care what people think of me or my life, well I do slightly, OK, a lot.
Let me introduce my beloved (they wish) family. I live in Boston, the capital of the state Massachusetts with my mum, dad, little brother and pet goldfish. We have a simple 4 bedroom house on 34th Street, just up the road from my best friend Alicia, with a small terrace and back garden. My mum's name is Dalla Warren (neƩ Lowecroft). She's 45 and was born in Frankfort, Kentucky. My mum is small, a trait that I've picked up, and thinks she's the best at everything. Honestly she does. Most mothers would be proud when their daughters get a level A on their physics course work, but not my mum. If I were to tell her this piece of information she'd simply laugh in my face and say 'is that the best you can do? When I was 14 I got an A in my science exam.' It really puts me down sometimes. My dad on the other hand is the complete opposite. Sometimes I wonder why he married my mum, they're like oil and water most of the time, but it seems to work. I suppose I do have to respect them slightly though, after all if it wasn't for them I wouldn't be here now, but maybe that would be a good thing looking at the kind of life I lead. Anyhow, my dad is very sympathetic, too sympathetic. He's one of those sickly sweet parents who like you to do well in everything and praise you every time you do something right. For example, the other day I was getting myself a drink and accidentally spilled the orange juice. I got out a cloth to clean it up and whilst I was doing so my dad clapped, clapped for heaven's sake, and said what a good girl I was. God it's annoying, he treats me like a 3 year old learning wrong from right. Then there's my brother, but I've told you about him already so I won't go into detail, other than to say he's the biggest mistake that ever entered this here world.
Then finally, (this life statistics explanation is taking longer than expected) there's my friends. Well, I think there's more than one, being an outcast has it's drawbacks. My best friend is Alicia Davidson, I've known her since kindergarten and we gelled straight away. I don't think appearance and interests matter when you're like 5 though, but if they did I swear to God that Alicia wouldn't have chosen me as her friend, but anyway. Alicia is one of those people that's perfect at everything, and I mean everything. If she wasn't friends with me she could easily be one of the popular girls at school. She has long, waist-length blond hair that she clips back with a large hair clip with an enormous daisy on it. She's got vibrant blue eyes which she enhances by wearing coloured contact lenses, she used to wear glasses but gave them up years ago. Not only being the perfect popular person regarding looks, Alicia has the popular style interests to match. I really don't know why she's my friend, but I must be doing something right. Alicia's favourite band is Outkast (appropriate don't you think?) and all her clothes are made by Gucci or Prada. I on the other hand buy all my clothes from Marks and Spencers and I don't even have a favourite band, I don't tend to be interested in manufactured music. My other friends are Lucy Jones, Cristalle Peterson and Amy Harper, though they tend to stick together leaving me and Alicia on our own. Lucy and Cristalle both have short brown hair which they tie back with a hair scrunchie. Amy is part Mexican so had dark hair like me, except hers is well kept and doesn't frizz out all over the place. Me, Alicia, Lucy, Cristalle and Amy however do have something in common, we all go to the same high school. It's called the College for Exceptional Students, but I am certainly not exceptional, they must have read my application form wrong. Our school is found right in the centre of Boston and holds around 1000 pupils. I am in my third year there now and I'm hating it more and more as time goes by. It's people like Meredith Jackson and Jodie Smith that make my life living hell and emphasise my oucastness, is that's a word. I like to forget about them but there's really not much chance of that.
Now I need to go and sort out my school bag, the new school term begins the day after tomorrow and boy am I going to hate it. Will update later.
Sunday September 4th, 7pm, my room
Oh God, I have to go back to school tomorrow. Please God help me, if there was ever a time when I need to put my Christianity into good use, then now is it. Help!!! I hate school so much!!!! (well actually I hate Meredith and Jodie and crew, but still, that's practically the whole school).
Monday September 5th, 7:30am, the kitchen
I shaking I'm so scared, and I mean literally shaking. I can't even eat my Weetos without spilling milk everywhere. It's ridiculous, I never used to be this worried about going back to school but now I feel physically sick. What if over the summer Alicia's met a new girl who's cleverer and prettier than me? What if over the summer Cristalle has moved out of town without telling me? What if over the summer Meredith Jackson has become worse than ever? What if over the summer I have become even more of a freak! Oh my God! What am I going to do!?!?!? Calm down Posey, I mean Paige, calm down.
Monday September 5th, 8:00am, my room
Right, now I've collected myself a bit I can carry on with my delightful day ahead. It will be just marvellous to see all my friends again! (OK, now I sound too happy, like some girl out of Mallory Towers or something). But then again there's always the bad points, but I try not to think about those. I best get ready now actually, I'm still sat here in my pink Carebears pyjamas from Marks and Sparks, half asleep, when I know I have to be bright eyed and bushy tailed in approximately, oh God, 10 minutes!
Well I made it, just. Right now I'm in the car on the way to the CES and I have to admit I look a right state, but I suppose I always do so what's the surprise. My hair is a complete and utter mess. You may think having long black locks is a gift, like being some character out of a Mulan movie, but oh no not me. When they were dishing out the film parts I was left with the dirty washer girl. You know, the one who walks past in the background with a big pile of washing wearing raggy clothes. I guess I'm a bit like Cinderella, except I'm not at all beautiful and I certainly don't have a Prince Charming waiting to come and sweep me off my feet. Anyway, back to the subject of my hair. At the moment it's kind of waving in all directions, I think my hair follicles must be allergic to oxygen too because my hair is constantly frizzy. No matter how much water, hair spray or gel I apply it still manages to look like I've just had a terrible shock. I hate my hair so much. Then there's my face. As usual I look like a goth, and I'm not even wearing any make up (outcasts don't tend to wear pretty pink glitters and shiny glosses, or black eye liner for that matter). No, I was the unlucky one yet again when it came to giving out good looks. I guess my dad was absent on the day when they did the raffle for pretty faces. My eyes are the focus of my face, so Alicia says, because they're dark brown and my eyelashes are naturally long and black. I can see where she's coming from though, I suppose my eyes are kind of OK. Well anyway, onto my lovely well chosen outfit I am wearing today. (Yeh right, it took me about 30 seconds to pull out a shirt from the cupboard and dig out a pair of matching socks). Today I have decided to sport a pair of jeans, which look about 5 sizes too big due to the fact my mum gave them to me after she'd lost a load of weight, a simple black t-shirt with a picture of Andre 3000 from Outkast on the front, Alicia bought it for me as a returning-home-from-her-holiday present during the summer, and a pair of white trainers which I think could possible be one of Matalan's creations. So there you have it, that's me in my usual clothing. You can tell I don't care what I look like, if I did I'd be one of the popular girls which I certainly am not.
Oh God, we've arrived. Arrived at the gates to Mordor, the land of doom, from where I will never return. Oh God please help me.
Monday September 5th, 1:37pm, the girls bathroom
Oh my God. I have only been at school for approximately 5 hours and already my life is living hell, and all thanks to Meredith Jackson. I arrived at school just before the bell went at 8:45 and trundled along to my locker where Alicia had said she would meet me. Alicia being who she is forgot about this little arrangement so I was left, stood by the lockers by myself looking like a complete idiot, not that I ever haven't looked like a complete idiot. Then that's where it started. I was just opening the lock in order to put my PE bag into my locker when I felt a sharp tap on my left shoulder. Thinking it was Alicia coming to apologise I leaped round and threw my arms around my friend, except it wasn't my friend I had thrown my arms around. It was Meredith. As if things could get any worse, Meredith was surrounded by a small clan of guys and girls, including her best friend Jodie. I wished that the ground would just swallow me up. Meredith then had the nerve to go on about my hair and my clothes and how much of a freak I was, as if I hadn't heard it all before. I tried to look as if these facts were knew to me, but I'm sure she saw right through it. I hate my life. So now it's lunch time, right now it's 1:40, the lunch bell went 5 minutes ago and I rushed straight into the bathroom, I can't stand another lunch time being tormented by that girl. Oh no, someone's coming.
This is great, just great. I was just sat here writing in my journal when along came the one and only Meredith Jackson accompanied by faithful sidekick Jodie and her newly found boyfriend Pierre Matthews. Yes you heard me right, her boyfriend, in the girls bathroom! I am sure that isn't allowed within school rules, not that she cares. Anyway, I decided to lie low and hide in a cubicle so she wouldn't comment on me. God I must be stupid, to think that Meredith isn't going to bitch about me just because I'm not there, it's one of her lifetime hobbies - being nasty to me that is. So I was happily, well not happily but you know, sat here and then the topic of myself came up in there conversation. Of course I had to listen, here's roughly what they said:
Meredith: Yo Jodie, guess who I am. 'Heya guys I'm Rosey Posey and I lurve to look like a complete ranker (well, a word similar to), I buy all my clothes from charity shops and I don't even know how to hold a hairbrush never mind use one'.
Jodie: -hysterical laughter- Oh Merry, you're so funny! I wish I could do impressions like that.
Meredith: I've sure got the talent girlfriend! Yo, imagine if freak face could hear us now. She sure could do with some sense knocking into her. She just think she's it and can go around stealing my limelight. I can eat trash too you know!
Jodie: -hysterical laughter- Oh Merry, Posey is such a freak I couldn't agree more. I mean look at her hair, and all that junk she eats in the cafeteria.
Pierre: Hey girls, don't be so harsh, I'm sure she's a nice person deep down.
Meredith: Yeh, very deep down Pierre, very deep down. I think we need to show you who we're talking about boy, come on, lets go find the resident school freak.
Jodie: -hysterical laughter-
And that was all I heard, but boy was that enough. Stealing her limelight! When would I ever want to steal her limelight! I mean OK, sometimes people pay me a lot of attention, but that's only because they're teasing me. God I hate myself. I wish I would just die.
Got to go, I'm absolutely starving and I can't hide in here forever, the cafeteria burgers are calling my name! More soon.
Wednesday 7th September, 3:11pm, biology class
Oh my God, I've just discovered approximately 30 minutes ago that my life is going to get ten times worse. If that's possible. I was in french class when the news was broken to me and boy is it bad. Our school, yes the CES and my year, yes 8th grade is going to do a french student exchange! Yeh, you heard me right, a french exchange. We have to house an annoying french person from Quebec for a whole two weeks! I can't even speak french!!! I've also heard that people in Quebec don't speak american, oh God what am I going to do? I hate my life. Then when I thought things couldn't possible get any worse, they did. How wrong could I be. We then had to choose an exchange partner and because at the particular time when Miss Snow announced that the names were on the front desk I happened to drop my pencil so had to bend down to pick it up meaning I missed the instruction so I got left with, her!!! Lord help me please, I know I'm always asking but I really need your help this time. I, Paige Warren, have to do a french exchange with 10 year old Maizy Woods from Quebec, Canada. I seriously don't believe this. Too shocked for words, more later.
Wednesday 7th September, 8pm, my room
Maizy for heaven's sake! Who in their right mind would call their child Maizy! Then again I can hardly talk, but still, Maizy!! This is going to be a disaster and the worst two weeks I have ever had in my life. Actually on second thoughts, none of my weeks are particularly good. Well, here's the little profile of my friend Maizy, just in case you're interested:
Name: Maizy Angelique Woods (Maizy for crying out loud! Sounds like a vegetable! And imagine having the initials MAW, maw - sounds like a noise a cat would make).
D.O.B: 31 / 10 / 1990 (oh no, she was born on Halloween, that can't be a good sign. Plus, she's only 10! An immature child I would expect, I mean come on, they could've given my someone my own age).
Interests: Reading French literature, playing cards and extreme sports (extreme sports? She goes bungee jumping in her spare time? Oh God, she actually likes French literature. I have a funny feeling we may encounter an interests clash).
So there you have it, the details of my best friend to be. Well that's how Miss Snow put it anyway. We have to write them a letter by next week to tell them what we're like. Hold on Maizy, you're in for a bumpy ride!
Friday 9th September, 10:15am, the lounge
I just don't get it. Why do people like Martin Luther King, St Patrick and St Valentine get to have one day a year devoted to their well being and incredibility and I get none. Why is it that they are forgotten for 364 days a year but remembered upon their particular day when I am never celebrated and remembered at all? Life is so not fair, how come I have to spend 365 days a year being tormented and how come not one of those 365 days are spent being nice to me? I hate being an outcast. Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that I feel really left out. It was my birthday in the summer holidays, 16th August to be precise, and the only people that remembered were my mum and dad and my best friend Alicia. How unfair is that? My own friends can't even remember when my day is yet they can remember when St Valentines day is. Surely I'm more important to them!? Obviously not as the case may seem. Anyhow, it's Alicia's birthday on Monday, she's going to be 14 and she's planning this massive party. I'm not sure who she's going to invite though because she swore to me just the other week that she wouldn't even think of inviting anyone other than me, Cristalle, Amy and Lucy to her birthday parties. So much for a massive party, seeing as there's only going to be 5 of us there, great choice of words there Alicia, just great. Then there's the other problem of what to get her for her birthday! Alicia's one of those people that has absolutely everything, and I mean everything. A big house, pool, her own car (!!!!), games, books, computer, TV, video, DVD played, CD player, walkman etc etc, the list just keeps on going. So now I'm stuck and have no idea what to buy, she doesn't even like chocolate so I can't get her any of that nice truffle stuff from Thorntons. Gosh this is hard, it'll come to me eventually, though she'll probably end up with a bubble bath collection from Boots or something but yeh, you know.
OK, I've decided I'm going to get this presentation letter for my exchanger out of the way by doing it now. Here goes nothing:
To Maizy,
My name's Posey, sorry Paige Warren and I'm 13 years old and I'm going to be your exchange partner. I live in Boston Massachusetts and go to the College for Exceptional Students with my friends Alicia, Cristalle, Lucy and Amy. I am in eighth grade there and my interests are, well I don't really have any interests. I like burgers and chips though.
From Paige xxx
I hope that's OK, seems to be lacking something though but it'll be fine. Oh no! I've just realised! What if she doesn't speak american?? Oh God, I'm not going to have to write it in french am I? Well I'll try, but I'm quite bad so she's probably more likely to understand the american one:
Chere Maizy,
Je m'appelle Posey, pardon Paige Warren et j'ai 13 and er, je serai ton partner. J'habite en Boston Massachusetts et je vais au college pour les etudes exceptionals avec mes amis Alicia, Cristalle, Lucy et Amy. Je suis en 8 et mon interests sont, je n'ai pas des interests. J'aime les hamburgers et les chips.
Paige xxx
Yeh, that sounds about right. I don't thinks chips are called les chips though but anyhow. I also don't know how to say what year I'm in, but what do I care. I think I might just send her the american copy after all.
Sunday 11th September, 9pm, my room
Ended up buying Alicia the bubble bath set from Boots, not the best of gifts but she'll have to live with it. Will update later when I'm in the mood.
Monday 12th September, 10:30am, english class
I'm in an english lesson at the moment and I'm meant to be writing a composition but keep getting distracted. It's Alicia's birthday and she's sat opposite me with a big pile of presents and a huge grin on her face. Hang on, she's just sent me a note,
Alicia: Happy Birthday to me! Happy Birthday to me! Have you seen all the exciting things I've got? Cristalle got me this really cool necklace, you just have to see it. Thanks for the pressie you got me, can't remember what it is at the moment but I'm sure it was great.
Wahey, she can't even remember what I gave her for her birthday. Just goes to show how interesting my gift ideas are. This is my reply to Alicia's note,
Me: Yes yes yes, happy birthday Alicia. I got you the bath set by the way as you seem to have forgotten. What are you doing for your birthday party? Have you decided yet?
Alicia: Oh yeh, I remember now, thanks. For my party, well it has to be massive. I was thinking of having a pool party in my garden, but it's a bit cold at the moment. Any ideas?
Me: Erm, we could go bowling?
Alicia: Bowling. Is that all you can think of? I need an idea that will involve lots of people.
Me: Why? Who are you planning on inviting? You said you were only going to invite me, C, A and L.
Alicia: Yeh well I changed my mind. I'm going to invite everybody.
Me: EVERYBODY?? Does that mean Meredith is invited???
Alicia: Yes Posey, everybody and yes Posey, even Meredith.
Me: Oh my God!! You can't invite her! It'll be a nightmare! (and the name's Paige by the way)
Alicia: yeh whatever
So that's where that conversation ends. Great, Alicia's having a party and the whole school (so it seems) is going. This means that I as an outcast will be totally ignored and shunned to one side by the popular people. Great, just great.
A/N I hope you don't mind that this was really really long, I just couldn't think of a place where to change 'chapters'! Please be kind and review, constructive criticism is welcome! Thanks!
