The Bunny Queen and Her King

"You are not ugly," I said to my reflection. "You're beautiful."

"Bunny!" my father yelled. "You're gonna miss the bus!"

"You are not ugly," I told myself firmly before I went running. I hope I didn't miss the...

I missed the bus.

I groaned, stomping my foot on the pavement. "Hop in!" Cookie's older brother, Charlie, said as he pulled up in front of me.

"Where's Cookie?" I asked as I sat in the passenger's seat.

"Got the flu."

I nodded as we followed the bus. "Thanks for picking me up, Charlie."

"Anytime, Bunny."

The rest of the ride was spent with us having a sing-off with the radio. The radio won, of course. No amount of awesome singing on our behalf could compete with professionally recorded singles.

Then we entered Hell's parking lot. I groaned.

"What's wrong?" Charlie asked. I looked at him. Charlie was hot, to say the least. Messy blonde hair, mesmerizing blue eyes, and a body that was hand-crafted by the gods. Which, to my fifteen-year-old mind, meant abs. A six pack. Yummy.

"We have just entered Hell," I grumbled.

He parked his car with ease. "If anybody messes with you then you tell me. 'Ight, Bunny?"

I giggled at his attempt at sounding ghetto. "Alright, Charlie."

We got out of his black Porsche. Charlie insisted on walking me to class as "protection", no matter how much I told him I'd be fine. I tried reasoning.

"Your class is on the opposite side of the school, Charlie. I couldn't forgive myself if you were late." I gave him my best puppy dog face.

He covered his eyes from my cuteness. "Nah uh, Bunny. I'm walking your to class."

I didn't understand his persistance, but went ahead and let him walk me. Charles Gregory Martinez typically got what he wanted. Once we made it to my algebra class, we said our awkward farewells, and I watched his very attractive back leave me in the hallway. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for what was surely to come.

I opened the door, and watched helplessly as the entire class went silent. I guess Charlie and I were arguing longer than I had realized.

I ducked my head, zigzagging through desks to get to my seat in the back. I bumped into a desk, hearing her screech, "Ah! The loser touched my desk!"

Did you hear that? Not a loser, the loser.

"B is for beautiful," I murmured to myself as I sat down in my desk.



"Y is for young and talented," I murmured as last minute encouragement.

Allow me to set the scene:

I was getting ready to audition for the school play—a recreation of Beauty and the Beast. It was going to be a musical comedy. I was humming my song for my audition when Candy came over, smacking the lyrics to the ground.

"Well, well. Isn't it the loser's reject?"

I kept my head low. Just don't make eye contact, I thought to myself.

"Hey." She grabbed my arm, her fake nails digging into my flesh. "I'm talking to you, ugly."

Ugly.

I knew I wasn't as pretty as Candy with her platinum blonde hair and dark blue eyes. Candy was gorgeous. She had a body that every boy in school wanted to get with.

And me? I was another brown haired, brown eyed girl. M eyes were a golden brown, like honey, at least. I was short, and my hips were so wide that it made me look shorter. Cookie always told me that I was curvey, not fat. Besides, I was the perfect weight for my 5'3" height.

"Hey, ugly, I'm still talking to you! What are you? Retarded?"

I winced at the insensitive use of the word. That struck a nerve since one of my friends were retarded, but I didn't say anything about it. The last thing I needed was to start a fight.

"Whatever." Her grip tightened. "Listen, you ugly little bitch, and listen good. If you upstage me then I will make your life a living hell."

Then her and her friends left.

So, here I am, repeating, "Y is for young and talented," over and over again.

The director/teacher called my name, and I walked to center stage, the microphone nearly slipping out of my hand because of how much I was sweating. Gosh, why was I torturing myself by doing this?

"Well?" the teacher prompted.

I sucked in a breath, and began singing.



"So, how was school today, sweetheart?" my mom asked.

"Fine," I said, smiling. "I got the part I wanted in the school play."

"What school play?" my dad asked.

"Beauty and the Beast," I nearly squealed in my excitement. "I'm Beauty."

"Oh! How wonderful, sweetie!" my mom said, reaching over my autistic brother to give me a hug.

"Ah!" he screamed. "Don't touch me!"

We giggled as we seperated.

"Oh, sweetheart, can you babysit this Friday?" my mother asked.

"Yeah, of course."

"Great. We're going dancing."

"Cool."

My mom was gorgeous. Of course, she was. Mrs. Janice Harbors was Miss Georgia back in the day. Golden blonde hair that fell in waves down her back, and honey brown eyes that seemed to hold the rays of the sun in them. A perfect body. She had the perfect height (5'7"), perfect curves, perfect everything.

My dad, on the other hand, was average looking. Messy dark curls atop of his head that was just starting to gray. Dark brown eyes that were nearly black, and framed by crooked wire glasses. He at least had abs, from what I'd seen from countless summers at the beach.

Most people didn't get why my mom was with my dad when he was so average looking. (Yes, people are seriously that shallow.) The truth? My dad was as sweet as could be. He treated my mom like a queen, and she loved it. She especially loved how he treated my brother like a prince and me like a princess. Just shows what kind of suckers us girls are.

My cell phone blared from the basket on the counter. Yes, we are seriously that lame family that says, "No cell phones at dinner," and puts them in a basket just to prove our point.

"Who's that?" my mom asked.

"Charlie," I said. "May I please answer it?"

"Of course."

I got up to answer my cell phone. "Hey, Charlie."

"Hey, Bunny. So, umm, I was wondering if you were doing anything this Friday?"

"Actually, I'm babysitting my brother."

"Oh, okay. Cool. Uh, see yah at shcool."

"'Bye, Charlie."

"Bye, Bunny."

We hung up on each other.

"What was that about?" my mother asked as I sat back down.

"Charlie was asking if I was doing anything this Friday."

"Like a date?" my mom squealed in excitement. My dad did a spit take with his water.

"No, not like a date," I said, rolling my eyes in annoyance.