I would just like to take a second to say thank you. You have no idea how awesome it is to have a bunch of emails with your reviews and story alerts etc. every time I open my email. Honestly, it's not a lot, but every person who bothers to read my writing counts. So yeah, thank you. I'm super appreciative and grateful and hope to continue gaining your support in whatever writing projects I decide to take on next.
Constance
Constance was grumpy.
And, as you know, Constance's grumpiness far surpassed normal grumpiness. One might even go so far as to say that her temperament, while steadily improving, might be rather… well, at any rate, it put her – and the Society – at a bit of a disadvantage when she was out of sorts and, as a result, began to speak absolutely nothing but insults.
It is fair to say that at this point, her anger was valid. Remember – she had been already stuck inside the house attending her own version of "school" for the past two weeks, and as much as she groused and complained about it, it kept her occupied. But all of that was gone as Mr. Benedict embarked on his new and pressing project, necessitating participation from the grown-ups and none of the kids. And although to many children, the prospect of a stake-out type of affair would be invigorating, to her it was… dull. Her past escapades had set the bar a tad high; now, unless she was out on the playing field, she saw no merit in doing whatever it was she was supposed to be doing.
This meant, of course, that she turned to Kate, whom she regarded as the queen of rule-breaking and escape-planning. When Kate was on frustratingly and suspiciously good behavior, she implored the adults. When they had the nerve to brush her off, she resorted to her default disposition and did a traditional Constance Contraire.
Suddenly all her offensive couplets and rhyming returned. The boys disliked being around her, and while Kate was most tolerant, she too was easily irked. Nobody enjoys being around a cross person, regardless of age. Not to mention, in regards to the rest of the Society members, there was always the added threat of having their minds probed, and none of them particularly fancied that.
What they didn't understand was that Constance was changing as well, and that they, and her talents, were all she had. She wasn't the oddball anymore; they accepted her, a feeling that she treasured, as much as she seemed to be greatly unappreciative. Now she was a child, not a toddler, and all children need friends. Being unusually mature in some aspects, she was content spending time with Mr. Benedict and Number Two to a degree, but needed Reynie, Sticky, and Kate more than she let on. Her solution was as it had always been: to push them away in the hopes that they would try to come find her.
When she felt lost, as she did now, it was true that she did attempt to delve into their secrets, because what else was she to do? She wanted to be close to people who were in no position to be close to her. After all, they were teenagers. She was a little kid.
If she had been able to look into the future, really look into the future, she would have realized that, much sooner than she suspected, she would be in the thick of it, and she would be vital for success.
But for now, all she could do was go about her business, sneaking cookies, rhyming names with bad words, and trying desperately to fit in.
I thought I'd toss in a chapter focused on Constance. While this story mainly revolves around Kate/Reynie's relationship, of course there has to be other character development, and I feel strongly that Constance would not have an easy time of it. She's always been the littlest one, the frustrating one, etc. It's natural that she would feel left out and underappreciated. At her age, most of us were beginning kindergarten, and I remember the apprehension and worries about not making friends. I hope you like it, and I'll return to the main story next chapter.