From the Notebooks of a Middle School Princess (13 page)

She stopped laughing. “I was kidding, you idiot. I think your hair looks terrible.”

Now she was just being ridiculous. My hair looked awesome, and even she had to know it.

“Come on, Annabelle,” Nishi said, trying to help. “Why do you have to be that way?”

“Stay out of it, Fishy,” Annabelle said. “This is between me and the princess.”

“Annabelle,” I said. “I don't want to fight with you.”

“Too late,” Annabelle said. “You and me, after school. And from what I hear, Big Sister Mia isn't going to be around this time to save you.”

“Really, Annabelle,” I said, a little wearily, because I had been through a lot in the past forty-eight hours. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Oh, you know,” Annabelle said, her eyes narrowing. “Don't act like you don't.”

“No,” I said. “I really don't have any idea what you're talking about.”

“
You
princess,”
Annabelle snarled. “You think you're better than me!”

Then she pushed me
—
hard
—
into my locker.

For the second time in a week, I thought I was going to die …

 … until a female Genovian bodyguard appeared from out of nowhere, slammed Annabelle up against the wall, and said into her walkie-talkie, “Situation in Hallway A. Situation with the princess in Hallway A.”

All I had time to think was, “Where did
she
come from?” before a
platoon
of Royal Genovian Guards showed up and hustled a weeping Annabelle
—
in handcuffs!
—
off to Dr. Bushy's office.

“But I didn't mean it!” Annabelle was crying. “I didn't mean anything by it! Olivia and I are friends. Just ask her! Olivia and I are
best
friends! We were only playing around
—
”

The female bodyguard looked back at me, her long ponytail swinging. “Are you two friends?”

I couldn't help feeling a little bad for Annabelle, since it seemed pretty clear that what Nishi had said about her was true: she was super insecure. I know from my wildlife illustration research that animals are only aggressive when they feel threatened (or are seeking prey to eat).

And Annabelle seemed pretty frightened at finding herself in handcuffs.

But at the same time, I'd been frightened at finding myself pushed into my locker!

I shook my head. “No,” I said. “We are not friends.”

The bodyguard nodded. “That's what I thought,” she said, and nodded again to her fellow guards, who took a sobbing Annabelle away.

Nishi helped as I tried to find all the things that had spilled out of my notebook organizer when Annabelle had pushed me.

“Wow,” Nishi said. “That was basically the coolest thing I've ever seen.”

“What happened just now?” I shook my head. “No, that was not cool.”

“Okay,” Nishi agreed. “Maybe what Annabelle did wasn't cool. But you can't take it personally. I think it comes with the territory of being a princess. Or at least a princess in the same school as Annabelle. But those bodyguards?
They
were cool. Where did they come from? I thought you said your aunt and step-uncle weren't going to let you be a princess anymore.”

“I know,” I said. “But Uncle Rick also said last night he thought we were being followed home.”

“This is total royal spy stuff!” Nishi looked around happily. “That's so cool! I wish I was a princess being spied on and protected by cool royal bodyguards!”

“Yeah.” I clutched my organizer to my chest. “I think it seems better when it's happening to other people than when it's happening to you.”

I also really hope the royal bodyguards are still around at three o'clock, which is when Annabelle said she's going to strike again.

 

Friday, May 8
2:25 P.M.
Social Studies Class

People were
fighting
to sit by me at lunch. Not exactly fist-fighting, but shoving one another.

Like having royal ninja bodyguards who appear from nowhere, this sounds better than it was. I just wanted to sit with my normal friends, like Nishi and Netta and Quetta and Beth Chandler.

But all these people who'd normally NEVER want to sit near us (such as Justin and his friends) kept elbowing for space at our table!

Then I found out Justin was SELLING TICKETS to sit near me!

Seven inches of space at my lunch table was going for as much as EIGHT DOLLARS!

It still seems unbelievable to me that my step-cousin, who once told me never even to speak to him at school, was selling tickets to sit near me.

Then again, he didn't give me so much as a penny! So I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

He is just like his father.

It's okay, though, because Dr. Bushy noticed what was happening (since there were so many fights over seating at my table. Sabine
—
that's my personal bodyguard, the one with the ponytail
—
kept having to break them up).

If I were to rate the best moments of my life (so far), they would go (in order):

1.
When I met my dad for the first time.

2.
When my dad asked me to live with him in Genovia.

3.
When the art school called and said they wanted to offer me that scholarship because I'd drawn Tippy the Turtle so well.

4.
When Annabelle Jenkins was about to give me a beat-down and I looked up and saw Princess Mia standing by that limo.

5.
When Dr. Bushy stormed over today to grab Justin by the back of his neck and said, “What is the meaning of this?” very loudly in front of everyone over by my lunch table and money started falling out of Justin's pockets and Beth Chandler got the whole thing on video and then said she's going to post it to her sister's YouTube channel.

So Justin got sent to Dr. Bushy's office. It was
fantastic
.

That is the good news.

The bad news is that Annabelle Jenkins's father threatened to sue the school district for harassment, so Dr. Bushy let her
out
of his office with only a demerit.

He also said that until “this matter is settled,” Sabine and all the rest of the Royal Genovian Guards would have to stay fifty feet away from Annabelle while she's on school property.

I guess Dr. Bushy is still mad about that time Lars wouldn't let him take a selfie with me in the CMS parking lot.

Which means when three o'clock rolls around and I go out to the courtyard to catch my bus home, I am just going to have to be brave, like my father said, and hope that my fists are quicker than Annabelle's.

 

Friday, May 8
3:45 P.M.
My Room, Cranbrook, New Jersey

They weren't.

I didn't even see her coming. When Annabelle's fist landed between my eyes, it knocked me down flat.

As I lay there blinking up at the sky, wondering what all the stars were doing out even though it was daytime, the next thing I saw after Annabelle's mean face was Sabine's. She was leaning over me saying, “Princess? Princess Olivia? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two,” I said. My voice sounded strange.

Sabine nodded crisply enough to make her ponytail bounce and said, “You'll live. I see we need to work on your self-defense skills.”

“Tell me about it.”

She smiled
—
the first time I'd ever seen her smile
—
then moved away as she said into her headset, “The princess will be fine. Bring the cars around.”

Next my step-cousin Justin's face appeared.

“You can get up now,” he said. “Annabelle's gone.”

Only I found that I felt much more comfortable on the ground. So I stayed were I was, watching the stars spin around and around.

“She's bleeding!” I heard a familiar voice cry. Ms. Dakota, I thought. I wondered who she was talking about. Who was bleeding?

“One of the guards went to get a first-aid kid.” That was Nishi. “Olivia, can you get up? Come on, you guys, let's help her.”

Then Nishi and Beth Chandler and the twins pulled me up to my feet. After everything stopped spinning, I saw that tons of people were gathered around staring at me, including my art teacher, Ms. Dakota. She pressed a wad of tissue paper that she'd pulled from her purse to my nose, which seemed to be running. A lot.

“Tilt your head forward, Olivia,” she said kindly, “and pinch your nose.”

I tilted my head forward and pinched my nose. The stars had finally disappeared and the sky had gone back to an ordinary blue anyway.

“Man,” Justin said. “That was a good strategy, just laying there like you were dead. Annabelle got so scared, she ran off. Your goons caught her halfway down the block. They probably have her in juvie by now.”

“No thanks to you!” Nishi yelled at him. “You were standing right there! Why didn't you try to stop her?”

“It wasn't my fight,” Justin said, looking genuinely surprised.

“Mom's going to kill you,” Sara said, pointing at the front of my shirt. “You got blood all over yourself.”

I looked down at the front of my shirt. It had been white. Now it was stained with drops of bright red.

“Don't listen to her,” Nishi ordered me, giving Sara a very dirty look. “Keep pinching your nose, like Ms. Dakota said.”

“Yes,” Ms. Dakota said. “Your nose is still bleeding a little, Olivia.”

So that's what the runny stuff was. Not snot, like I'd thought, but blood.

“What's happening out here?” I heard Dr. Bushy's voice thunder, as the doors to the school swung open. “Why are you people just standing around? Why is no one getting on their buses?”

“Use your eyes, Paul,” Ms. Dakota snapped. “What do you
think
happened?”

I couldn't move my head to look because Ms. Dakota was still holding her tissues to my nose, but I guessed by the change in his voice
—
it got considerably softer
—
that Dr. Bushy noticed all the blood on my shirt.

“Oh, dear,” he said. “Was it
—
?”

“Of course it was,” Ms. Dakota said.

“Olivia,” Dr. Bushy said. “I mean, er, Your Royal Highness … may I just say … I'm, er, very sorry. I never thought she would go this far.”

I remembered everything Mia and my grandmother and Dad and even Nishi had taught me about being a princess. Princess are never ungracious and they don't hold grudges, either. They accept apologies when they're given sincerely.

So I nodded to Dr. Bushy
—
as gracefully as I could while pinching my nose
—
and said, “It's all right.”

I don't think I'm suffering any sort of concussion or anything: I really do think Dr. Bushy looked relieved, and that Ms. Dakota smiled at me in a proud way, like I'm the best pupil she'd ever had.

Well, she did say in art class today that I've made a lot of progress with my perspective.

“Uh, Olivia?” Sara said, sounding nervous. I think she was starting to realize she'd chosen the wrong lunch table. “We'd better go. The bus is leaving.”

“Bus?” Sabine looked very insulted. “Princess Olivia will
not
be riding the bus.”

Then she took me by the arm and began to steer me away from the group outside the school. To my surprise, I saw that not only were there three black town cars
—
each with tinted windows and miniature Genovian flags flying from them
—
waiting for me, but so were hordes of paparrazzi. The paparazzi were behind a set of wooden barricades someone had erected to keep them off school property.

But that wasn't stopping them from using telephoto lenses.

Great. Every single one of them had probably gotten up close photos of me getting my nose bashed in by Annabelle Jenkins.

“Are those cars for me?” I asked Sabine, hoping we could jump in one and get away as quickly as possible before anyone got anymore embarrassing photos.

“And your security staff,” she said.

“Oh, good,” I said.

When we got to the middle town car, and Sabine opened the passenger door for me, I turned to look back at Cranbrook Middle School and noticed that everyone outside of it was still watching me. It seemed like a good opportunity to use another one of the lessons Princess Mia had given me.

Even though my nose was killing me, I didn't want those reporters to think what Annabelle had done was bothering me. So, still pinching my nose and holding the tissues Ms. Dakota had given me, I gave everyone at CMS a big Smile and Wave to let them know there were no hard feelings.

They all looked kind of confused for a minute, but then some of them waved back (and took photos with their cell phones, of course).