The Art of Being Emily - Katie MacAlister Page 0,18
Other than the slightly dazed look on the faces of the kids in the first row, no one seemed to think anything of the fact that the teacher was yelling her brains out.
“BEFORE WE BEGIN THE CLASS, MARIAH WILL HAND OUT THE HOMEWORK TIMETABLE AND DIARY. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR UNDERTAKING YOUR COURSEWORK ON A REGULAR AND SYSTEMATIC BASIS. DO NOT POSTPONE IT UNTIL YOU ARE NEAR THE DEADLINE. YOU WILL ALSO BE GIVEN YOUR GSCE PLANNING AND REVISION DIARY. THESE DIARIES ARE A VERY HELPFUL AID TO YOUR STUDY, SO DO NOT LOSE THEM.”
There was a low pitched humming noise in my ears. It was either a brain aneurysm, or I was going deaf.
“NOW WE WILL COMMENCE. THIS TERM WE WILL STUDY TWO OF SHAKESPEARE'S GREATEST WORKS—ROMEO AND JULIET, AND HAMLET. WE WILL BEGIN WITH ROMEO AND...YOU, GEL, YOU IN THE BACK WITH THE FRIZZY HAIR. WHAT IS THAT YOU HAVE?”
I looked around to see which of the frizzy-haired students she was bellowing at, then I realized it was me.
Frizzy hair? OHMIGOD, just shoot me, why don't you! Everyone in the class turned around to look at me (I really should be used to it by now), and remind me to e-mail the Pope, because I am most definitely next in line for sainthood. They all—with the exception of Holly, who looked worried—smiled smug little smiles at me. I couldn't help wondering why everyone was picking on my appearance. I looked just the same as I've always looked, and no one at home ever said anything nasty about my earrings or makeup. That's the one thing I know, right? I was feeling like enough was just about enough. I looked at the Butterball and cocked the Eyebrow of Questioning, and said, “Who, me?”
“YES, YOU, GEL. WHAT IS THAT IN YOUR HAND?”
I held up my hand. “Fingers?” Ten out of ten for style, huh?
“NO, NO, THE BLUE OBJECT.”
I held up the tablet. “It's a tablet.”
“A WHAT?”
I sighed and stood up. Evidently, in this country, if you stand, it makes people understand you. “Tablet. You know, a tiny little tablet computer. Although this one doesn’t have wifi because my father is cheap. You do have tablets here, don't you?”
“THEY ARE NOT ALLOWED IN SCHOOL. PUT IT AWAY, AND DO NOT BRING IT AGAIN.”
The Bellowing Butterball turned toward the blackboard and started to write stuff, yelling at the top of her lungs all the while. The smarty-pants girls snickered at me a bit longer before turning back to the BB-ball. Holly was the only nice one in the class, and she looked like she wanted to cry for me.
“I'm so sorry,” she said. “Don't mind Ann and Bertrice. They always act like that around anyone who's different.”
Different? Now I was different? As in—strange?
I wanted to scream at all of them that I was not the uncool one, that I did not have frizzy hair, it was naturally curly, that I was not the one who spoke differently, they were, but I didn't. I just sat down, gritted my teeth, and took notes in my tablet (defiant to the end—that's something else Brother is big on).
I'll tell you about the rest of the classes after dinner. Once you get home, let me know what's going on back on the sane side of the world. I'm so bummed, I don't even want to Sims.
Hugs and kisses,
~Em
Subject: Re: You poor thing! You poor, poor thing!
Connie carried my backpack for me, but you know her, she's so Miss Transparent. I could tell she was just trying to schmooze up to me because she likes Vance. But I figured she couldn't do me any harm as my personal body slave. Vance called last night and apologized for standing me up. He said his car broke down.
Under no circumstances are you to forgive him. You're much too good for him, Dru. He doesn't deserve your love, not when he's out driving Tabitha around when he promised to take you to the mall.
I don't know how you survived! I would have melted into a puddle of tears. You are the bravest person I know, Em, you really are. I can't wait to hear what the rest of the classes were like.
They weren't too horrible, if you don't mind sitting in classes with a bunch of children who hate your guts. Holly (you remember her, she was the nice one) is in five of my classes, which is good. Miss Naylor in physics was