Waiting was not fun.
Checking my watch, I saw that Ms. Mason, the etiquette teacher, was about fifteen minutes late. Rude, if you asked me. Silently cursing Nick for this torture, I crossed my legs and smacked my hand against my forehead.
The door creaked open, and my back involuntarily shot up straight. After scanning the front of the room, I realized that it was only a little girl, probably around fifteen. She had on a cream, flowy skirt that ended until her knee and a red sweater that was tucked into the skirt. A pair of red flats were slipped onto her tiny feet; her hair was sweeped up in a high ponytail. She most likely was a Monroe because she had the same characteristics as Nick--blue eyes, sloped nose, brown tousled hair, pouty lips, and oval-shaped eyes. Sighing in relief, I smiled warmly at her before grabbing my phone out of my pocket to play with.
"Excuse me, we have a lesson to begin," she demanded and glowered at me. Her hand quickly snatched my phone from my hands and threw it at the grey wall, creating a loud crash.
Shit just got real.
"What? I'm waiting for Ms. Mason, so run along now." I shooed her away, but the tiny teenager refused to leave; she planted one hand firmly onto her hip.
"I am Ms. Cara Mason, the princess of the etiquette queen, my mother. I'm Nick's second cousin."
A confused look formed onto my face while Princess Cara began leering me over. Using her pointer finger and thumb, she picked up a strand of my curly hair. She shot me a disapproving glare before looking over the rest of my body.
"Well, your hair is atrocious, your skin is oily, you have terrible fashion sense, but some might consider you sorta pretty. It'll be a miracle if you even look decent for the ball." Her voice was soft but menacing.
Gulping, I pulled down on the skin of my face. This was going to be long, tedious day, and I wasn't prepared for this monster. Without another word, she gestured me to stand up. Brushing the imaginary grime off of my jeans, I wobbled out of the chair to be prodded. I literally felt like a piece of meat.
An evil smirk slithered up her lips, and her eyes glimmered. Out of her black tote bag, she removed a pair of six inch, black plumps and a red textbook. I bent over and forced my clown feet into the deathtraps, and she slowly placed the book onto my head. As soon as it was placed, it slid off, hitting the floor. The ends of her lips tilted downwards, and she smacked the book onto my head, and once again, it slid right off.
"Okay, you have the worst posture I have ever seen. This might take awhile," she breathed out, running a hand through the end of her ponytail. For the third time, she put the book on top of my head, and this time, it stayed. "Walk in a straight line with your eyes closed. Pretend you're doing a runway walk."
Nodding, I began strutting down the tiled floors with the heavy book on my head. However, as soon as I stepped about a foot, the book fell onto the floor. Since I was such a clumsy oaf, my heels got caught in the binding, and I fell head-first onto the ground. Wincing in pain, I propelled myself up onto my elbows and stared at the girl in front of me.
She was now wearing an army jacket and hat. Wait, what?
"Cadet Wilkes, are you slacking?" Cara bellowed, shaking her index finger at me. Her neck jutted outward as she yelled at me. "Did you just fall flat onto your idiotic head?"
My hands began shaking, and a list of profanities threatened to come out of my mouth. Why the hell was I scared of a girl about a foot shorter than me? Shaking my head, I yelled, "No, sir, I'm not!"
"Sir?! I'm a woman!"
"Yes, m'am!" I instantly shot back up onto my feet, and the book went onto my hair.
YOU ARE READING
Southern Belle
HumorBelle Wilkes is miserable living in her small town in the south. Unlike her family and friends, she actually wants to make something out of her self, and she isn't content with what her family considers 'normal life' after graduation. When an accept...
