Cordelia's Diary, entry VIII

Spoilers: Seasons 1-3.

Disclaimers: Joss owns all, yada yada, they're not mine, yada yada yada.

A/N: I'm here to update!

It's a little late for gidgetgirl's "Save A Fic Week", but I figured at least some people would appreciate it if I updated. Plus, I've been missing Cordy lately. So the fics you're gonna see either added or updated will likely have Cordy at the center. Rejoice, Cordy fans!

May 19, 1997

Sorry I haven't written for awhile. I've been campaigning, you know. I got these little candies with "C"s printed on them, and Harmony, the brain that she is, was like, "Oh, 'C'. 'C' stands for 'Cordelia', right?" and I was all, "Nooo, 'C' for 'Wilma', Little Brain." God. Buffy's a psycho, Willow's nerd, Xander's a loser, and Harmony's an airhead. The people I have the most contact with are all just...ick.

Except Mitch. We're going to to Spring Fling! I mean, sure, his leading our team to victory might've had something to do with it, but still...you can't say I don't like him for who he is, because I do like him for who he is: A sports-playing, game-winning, hottie, salty goodness, popular jock! And did I mention he's hot?

--Cordelia

May 25, 1997

Once again, sorry I haven't written. Being stalked by an invisible girl will do that to you.

Yeah. And you know what? It turns out Ms. I'm-A-Freak-I'm-Buffy-Summers actually has a reason for her freakiness. I'm just not sure what the reason is. It's not 'cause she's in a gang, that much I know. But when I was getting attacked (and Harmony and Ms. Miller and Mitch were getting attacked), she knew what to do. And the saddest part? I know where she's coming from. Not like we're two-of-a-kind or anything, because that would mean that either I'm a freak or she's popular, and neither of those is remotely possible. But I actually feel more at ease with Buffy, Willow, Xander, and the Mr. Giles guy than I do with Harmony, Gwen, Aura, and everybody else. Maybe because I don't have to set a fashion example for Buffy and Co. I mean, I've tried and they've rejected my attempt, so it's just a load off my chest to not have to be the perfect fashion example. I bet that's it.

Well, they invited me to have lunch with them today. And I won't lie: for one millisecond, it sounded like fun. I could actually have a real conversation with someone. It would be like, "Hi, let's talk about our lives and how they just got interrupted by an invisible girl that wanted to kill us," and not "Hi, let's talk about our lives and decide how polka dots will factor into them this spring." And then Mitch came by and I snapped back to reality. Okay, okay. I chickened out.

I wanted to have lunch with Buffy and everybody, I really did, but then Mitch came by and he looked at me (with those HOTTIE eyes) and it was like fight-or-flight-deer-in-the-headlights. And I flighted. Flew. Whatever. And that's what gets me. Since when am I afraid of my own "friends"? I should have just said, "No, I'm having lunch with these freaks today, and there's nothing you can do about it." Then what? It's not like they can go on being popular without me. I am the epitome of popularity. I am Cordelia Chase. And I missed my shot at expanding my circle of friends, corny as it sounds.

I mean, being friends with the freaks would be a good thing, right? Only a really popular person would let themselves be seen with loser. It shows that not even that will take your popularity level down enough notches to be considered unpopular. And popularity is about who has the most friends, right? That would be adding three (or four, depending on whether you count Giles, which I'm not) more numbers to the roster. Go me.

All this thinking is giving me a headache (and all this writing is giving me a hand-cramp). I'll write more later.

--Cordelia

P.S. I won May Queen, just like I knew I would. I can't believe I forgot to mention that before.