Diary of a Stereotypical Queen Bee

Entry 3 - Cold Blood and Kindness

Hello lovelies. I'll pick right back up in a second, but first, I feel the need to clarify something to my less enlightened readers.

A lot of people come to understand my methods of ruling as disagreeable, but in my defense, power and respect, are not exactly synonymous with dainty and kind.

In a perfect world, maybe I could rule with both strength and tenderness, but the world isn't perfect and neither am I. I know, surprising right?

But therefore, when you throw a piranha into a pool with sharks, she's got to toughen her bite or learn to get bit. Everyone thinks men are the vicious ones, but the girls here were bloodthirsty even before I arrived. We're just simply better at hiding it.

Besides, does anyone want a boring, backless queen anyways?

♕ ♕ ♕ ♕ ♕

I relaxed as soon as I was away from watchful eyes and turned a corner in the hallway. "Tiffany!" I hissed

She appeared in front of me again, this time wearing high-waisted jeans and a crop top. Tiffany sighed. "I guess that name is going to stick, isn't it?"

I crossed my arms. "If you're sticking around, yes."

"I already told you what my role was. You know, acceptance is the beginning of change," she said sagely.

"I don't like change!" I snapped.

Tiffany shrugged. "Too bad." She checked her wristwatch. "Listen, great chat, but I've gotta go. I kind of had to squeeze in this appointment. Remember Claire, try to be nice to people today. It won't look good on me if you're caught terrorizing innocent girls."

She disappeared. "But I'm not nice!" I shouted after her, cringing slightly afterwards, but I might as well have been shouting to the walls. I growled in frustration.

What was the point of having a fairy godmother if she suddenly appeared and disappeared at inconvenient times?

I didn't feel like going back into the cafeteria just yet, so I started wandering the hallway until I found a quiet corner near the vending machine and sat down and closed my eyes.

"Claire?" An incredulous voice asked.

My eyes flew open, but it was only the boy a few days ago sitting across from me with a lunch tray and a book. "Parker!" I exclaimed, surprised.

He scowled. "It's Preston."

I frowned, unable to remember what my sources told me. "Right."

He paused. "So what is the almighty queen bee, Claire Stryker, doing here by herself?"

I studied him. "I could ask you the same thing. Don't you have any friends?"

Preston shrugged my question away silently. I felt something twinge in me, and for some reason, I drew back a little. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

He met my eyes again and raised an eyebrow. "It's fine. I didn't take it personally."

There was an awkward silence.

"I like to eat here. It's quiet, and no, I don't have that many friends to answer your question. I find the people here to be pretentious and superficial."

I looked over to check if he was serious, and he might've been, but there was only a teasing expression in his light eyes. I laughed a little. "I'm glad you think so highly of us."

He cracked a smile. "I guess you're not the worst one."

"Thanks. You really know how to flatter a girl."