See, I told you I'd be quick! This one's also pretty short, but I think it's one of my better chapters. For Muse and LW77's contest.
Friday, December 5th
Dear Diary,
I hate her! I hate that out of style, overweight, bloody idiotic – What? You have got to be joking David. You're the one who said I should use this to express my feelings! But – Will you excuse me for a moment? I'll be right back.
That's much better. Sorry, I just had to have a little "heart to heart" with David. He's packing now. I'm sure Mother won't be pleased, but I just can't put up with that bloody imbecile any longer.
I suppose I should explain why Ian and I even have a tutor. We're obviously geniuses, even if I am failing Science. And French. And – Never mind, that's not the point. The point is, for some reason, even though we go to the most expensive private school in all of London, Father still insists we have a tutor. "You two will have to take over the Lucian branch someday," he says. "You need to be well educated." As the Americans say, whatever.
In any case, we'll have a new tutor soon. Hopefully this one will be better than David. I really did have hope for him, with that Armani suit of his, but ah well.
Now where was I? Oh, that's right.
I HATE HER! She is the most overweight, out of style, lethargic, bloody idiotic loser I have ever met. I'm talking about my dim-witted principal, Mrs. Lawrence. Everything was going fine until she had to go and ruin everything.
It started out as a perfect day. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and I looked fabulous in my new miniskirt, pink lace tank top, and Dior sunglasses. I didn't even get caught when I was texting Kirsten and Tatiana in French. But of course, just when things were going well, I had to be called down to the office.
I didn't even think it was going to be an issue at first. Our cook, Benjamin, had probably just forgotten to pack my fat-free yogurt in my lunch.
But as soon as I walked in, I knew something was wrong. Because there was Mrs. Lawrence, sitting primly, or as primly as someone as unsightly as her could, behind her desk. But the person sitting across from her was the real problem. It was Gabriella. And she was crying.
Now, if there's one way to gain the sympathy of a teacher, it's by crying. I know this from experience, because I've used this tactic many times. It's the only reason I'm passing Math. Every time I fail a quiz and my teacher Mr. Brown gets angry, I just burst into tears and he'll back off. I don't know what it is about men and crying, but for some reason they hate to see girls cry. Not counting Ian of course. He would give anything to see me cry. But he doesn't really count. He's more of a pig, or perhaps a warthog, than a man.
In any case, I sat down beside Gabriella, and Mrs. Lawrence glared at me. Then she told me that I had to apologize to Gabriella. I didn't want to get in trouble, but there was no way I was apologizing to her. So instead, I started to cry, and I made up this story about Gabriella bullying me. It was quite genius of me, actually. You should have seen the look on Gabriella's face. It was priceless.
But then, just when I thought I might get away with it, Mrs. Lawrence announced that we both had to discuss our "personal issues" with our school councillor tomorrow at lunch. It's ridiculous, but I really can't afford getting into any more trouble. Father still hasn't given me my new Gucci bag back yet.
So, if this keeps me out of trouble, I suppose I'll just have to put up with it, at least until I get my bag. I might have to hide all my bags and shoes tonight, just in case.
Natalie Kabra
The next chapter probably won't be out any time soon, because I need to work on my other stories, but as soon as I finish the next chapter for those, I'll work on this. As always, please review!