Diary of a Stereotypical Queen Bee

Entry 5 - Let Them Eat Cake

Hello again, lovelies. Brace yourselves for a bit of a long entry. Remember when I said I'd find more about Andrew? Well, I am a woman of my word, aren't I?

But first, I'd like to start off today's journal entry with a little history trivia. Let's see how much you understand.

Q.) Which queen started her reign as a foreigner, and was regarded in history as one of the most cruelly indifferent rulers, only concerned with her position and fancy things?

A.) In history that queen was Marie Antoinette. At Jefferson High, that queen was me.

Earlier today, I watched as Imogen stood by herself in the hallways. She pitifully moved around from area to area, wincing each time as people scurried away from her. It was as if I'd given her leprosy. People moved to the other sides of the hallway so they wouldn't even touch her.

She met my eyes for a brief moment, and stared with tearful eyes. She was begging for forgiveness. I regarded her coolly, before I turned my head and walked away, flanked by my sneering servants.

What most people don't understand about Marie Antoinette and me, though, is that we were still both people. More specifically, we were both extremely young when placed into power, and also both completely clueless when it came to life.

A little while after the Imogen incident, I was sat out in the courtyard on some steps, dialing a certain number.

I watched my breath come out in puffs while the phone rang. It was getting cooler outside. Then it finally picked up. "Hello? Who is this?"

"Daddy, it's Claire."

His tone softened. "Is there something you need, sweetheart?"

"Well, yeah. I'm still waiting for you at school. Everyone else is already gone."

"Why do I need to be at school? Did you get in trouble?"

I let out another breath. "No, daddy. Remember? You said we could spend the day together today. You'd pick me up, and we'd go to the fair or something. Like old times."

There was a long pause on the other line. "I'm sorry, Claire. I can't today."

"It's okay, I can wait a little bit longer if that's what you need. Or I could call the driver and we can meet up."

He sighed. "No, honey. I mean, I need to take a rain check."

I bit on my lower lip to keep it still. "Of course. I understand."

"Claire," he said softly. "Please don't take this--"

"Bye, Dad." I cut him off as I hung up.

And another thing people don't bother to know, is that Marie Antoinette was given up by her family at thirteen. They sent her off to completely foreign country, where she was expected to maintain etiquette she didn't understand, and marry a stranger she didn't know.

At least I didn't have to marry anyone.

"Hey, Claire. What are you doing here by yourself?"

I prepared myself to tell that person off. But as they came closer, I realized it was only Andrew. And in his eyes was somehow nothing but concern. I looked away uncomfortably. "It's none of your business."

He sat down next to me. "I guess not. Do you have a way home?"

I turned my head finally and studied him. He had a deep cut jawline and a straight nose. The cold made his paleness noticeably more so. His green eyes were searching mine and I realized he was still waiting for an answer.