The Bianca-Jacqueline encounter left a sour aftertaste in Jacqueline's mouth and the advice from her mother's petty nature gave birth to her latest creation. The new Jacqueline. The next morning - at breakfast - Mrs Montreal's expression was illegible. She looked as if she couldn't decide whether to laugh or panic. Chef Montreal walked in. He was dumbstruck with terror. His mouth was moving but no words came out. Jacqueline grabbed a breakfast muffin from the basket loaded with muffins and gave her parents an expecting look. Timidly Jacqueline asked, "do you like it?" Her mother's face twisted into a confused grin. "I call it 'me from now on'."
Mr Montreal was still frozen in awe of his daughter. Mrs Montreal nodded as she slowly modeled towards Jacqueline. "I like it; you're making a statement." Jacqueline smiled with pursed lips, trying to hide how chuffed she was. "My only criticism is this: you're dressing bold, so be bold. You're not telling anyone anything if you mumble the way you do."
Jacqueline lowered her head shyly. "I don't mumble," she replied timidly. Mr Montreal raised an eyebrow at her while Mrs Montreal whispered in her daughter's ear. Jacqueline nodded to her mother understandingly. "Oui, ma."
She greeted her parents and then wordlessly left for school, feeling (for the first time in a while) sure of herself. Mr Montreal turned to his wife in fright. "Where's Jacqueline? She's going to be late for school." Mrs Montreal huffed at him before wiggling into his arms while he hummed a chuckle. "What's this about?"
"Self-reconditioning," was her only reply.
The pair of black Converse high tops weren't the immediate sign of Jacqueline's 'self-reconditioning'. The short, black pencil skirt - however - did gain a few murmurs. By the time people took note of the loose, soft blue top with black lace and the red leather jacket; nobody was convinced that that girl was Jacqueline Therese Montreal.
Every hallway she passes was abuzz with people from her class pointing and whispering about her. It wasn't just what she wore; it was clear that her skin was thicker, her head was held a little higher. Even her walk had a certain confidence to it. Despite the appearance, the attention was beginning to get to her. The mask of nonchalance was starting to fade with every judgmental eye that caught her.
She swallowed hard and recalled her mother's words 'dress bold, be bold'. Jacqueline began projecting her boldness on her face and it startled Royce and froze him mid-sentence with Hunter. Hunter turned to see Royce wide eyed with his jaw on the floor. "Damn," was all he could say. "Is that Montreal?"
Hunter turned to Jacqueline strut straight up to him and claim him in a vividly exquisite kiss. Royce's wide brown eyes grew wider while the rest of the hallway gasped and began a roar of whispering. "Magnifique," she replied flirtatiously. "Je vous remercie, Hunter," she whispered before vanishing into the alumni, leaving Hunter dazed and Royce bewildered.
Jacqueline blushed as she walked away with her heart beating erratically. Taking a deep breath she entered her first class, Maths. Malcolm sat on the other side of Sebastian but was in utter awe when he saw Jacqueline. She forced herself not to look his way and focused on Mr Jiang's lesson. For most of the class, she merely made doodles alone the edges of the page.
The bell rang as she finished the replica of good fortune cat from the sticker on Mr Jiang's desk. Econ passed in a blur and world's history was too. Hunter was already there - in English - when Jacqueline entered the classroom. She swallowed hard before sitting in front of him, hoping he wouldn't ignite conversation.
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Good Graffiti
किशोर उपन्यासLong Shore is still recovering from the events of Arabella Grayson. Unfortunately, a new threat has reached this trivial town, known only as J. M. Hummingbird; the graffiti artist whose messages are loud and clear. When this artist's fame makes wave...
