Author: crzyxswirls PM
I am Abby Johnson and guess what? I'm a princess. Too bad I'm rude, snarky, and sarcastic, karate-knowing, judo-knowing, and basically unprincess-like. To top it off, I'm going undercover to a public high school. TemporaryRated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Humor - Chapters: 5 - Words: 6,907 - Reviews: 10 - Favs: 7 - Follows: 11 - Updated: 07-02-10 - Published: 01-23-09 - id: 2626006
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/n: Thank you for reading.
Video tapes will forever own DVDs.
I shoved the tape into the VCR and the TV flickered and went off.
"Mom! The T.V isn't working," I called.
"Then try the other T.V, Abby," My mother said lazily from the satin couch.
I glared at the flickering T.V., "but that's stupid, we have too many televisions, besides I like this one, it has a VCR attached to it." I ejected the video tape but it didn't move.
"Stop hitting the VCR!" she commanded and I instinctively stopped, "Is this a way for a princess to act, Abigail Johnson?!"
Ouch, she said my full name. She must've still have been mad about Prince Laurence.
Ha, about that…
"You are beautiful, Princess Abigail," he said, his finger groping my cheek.
"Uh huh," I nodded vacantly as I stared at the dancing figures on the stage.
He was quiet and sadly, I eventually fell asleep watching them re-act the scene from Beauty and The Beast.
"Princess Abigail, the show is over," he gently nudged me on the shoulder, his hand gently squeezing my shoulder.
"No!" I hissed and whipped my fist into the air, making contact with his nose.
A laugh escaped my throat.
Oops. I plopped onto the loveseat and pulled out a magazine, my tense fingers drumming against it.
"So, what was it you wanted to tell me?" I muttered, nervousness swirling through me. Whenever my mom called a "talk between women" it was actually a "talk between bulls".
"Listen, Abby, you're now 16, right?" my mom asked.
"Duh," I tilted my head to the side.
"You're getting bigger, and I'm getting older, and when that time comes, you will inherit the throne," she said.
"Mom, just get the point," I complained and leaned back against the cushioned seat.
"You're going to public high school," she said, bluntly.
My jaw dropped open.
"I know, it's hard, but you are not exactly the most…interactive person there is. I think going here will help you become more…social," she sugar coated the subject.
"But, don't you remember what happened to me in the beginning of elementary?!" I gasped and dread boiled in my stomach.
"Yes, I'm sorry for that, but this time, they already know you're the princess, it's just a test to see how well you can handle yourself in public," she smiled and handed me a catalogue.
I took it from her hand and stared at it intensely. On the cover was a school surrounded by trees and the sun was shining against the white coating of paint. I felt my lips curl up over my teeth as I stared at the glossy page.
"Well, that's it for today, want to go get ready?" My mom grinned at me and stood up, picking at lint on her silk pajama pants.
"Ready?" I gaped, the huge bun on the top of my head almost fell out of its scrunchie.
"Yeah, school starts tomorrow for you," she smiled sweetly at me and flounced out of the room, her short red bobbed hair moved with the rhythm.
"Cruel destiny," I sighed and tugged the scrunchie out of my hair angrily letting it fall over my shoulders and around me like a red waterfall.
"Princess, your supplies are in your room," Francine walked into the room, her tight bun at the back of her head and a dark suit. She was my private tutor, well at least she used to be.
"Don't call me princess," I snapped.
"Sorry, your highness," she curtsied a bit and walked away.
I got up grudgingly and adjusted the waist band on my Juicy Couture sweats and piled my hair back onto the top of my head. My dad was out on a some sort of trip to Asia.
I honestly had no idea when he'd be back, but I bet he knew about this public high school crap.
I walked into my room, and was greeted by the overpowering bright pink canopy overshadowing the pink bedding and pink lacey pillows. My stomach twisted in anger and horror. My precious room has been raped!!
"Who decorated my room!?" I demanded.
"Your highness thought your room was too disrespectful so she ordered us to change certain things," the maids bowed their head downward.
"My poster collection?"
"My stuffed animals?"
"My blanket?" yes, it was somewhat like a blankie.
"Sorry, Princess Abigail," and they exited the room so I can wallow in my own sadness.
I saw two large boxes and a backpack next to it. My school supplies were here.
I whipped my head up towards the ceiling, dramatically.
She doubts I can graduate without coming home crying?
Well, I'll show her!
I'll graduate, make friends, and become the first princess to attend public high school!
A/n: This is a cliché kind of story. Ha, so please review!