Diary of a Reluctant Ruler

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Sunday was a whirlwind of church, roast dinner (delicious!), intensive poetry reading, attempting to talk to James (who was back to ignoring me, glaring when necessary), a snatched etiquette lesson, frantically practising my curtsy, getting walked in on by Philippe, who found it very funny to see my bowing to invisible guests, and eventually ending up falling exhausted into bed at only 9 o’clock.

Then the school week started again, and life was back to schedule.

Iona now a steadfast friend. Shona had parted ways, and was now sitting with Jacques for lunch. Katriona floated from our group, Iona, Henry, David and I, to her own from Ash house. Jenn would sometimes join us, though she was in Holly and spent most of her time reading in the library.

“So how are you and James?” Iona asked, sitting round our table on Tuesday.

“James?” Henry asked.

“Earl of Aramathia,” Iona whispered confidentially.

“The guy in the papers?” Henry looked shocked.

“Yeah, that’s him,” I sighed.

“I thought there was nothing between you guys?”

“There wasn’t,” Iona explained for me, “But then things got a little heated, you know...”

Danger, danger! High voltage!!

“So you are married?!” he cried.

“No!” I laughed.

“It’s a love/hate relationship,” Iona explained.

“Oh, ok,” Henry laughed, going back to his discussion with David about superheros.

“I wouldn’t call it love hate,” I mumbled, “Although I kinda like him, and he seems to hate me.”

“So…”

“Nothing’s really changed,” I said, “He’s gone back to ignoring me after he saw me laughing with Philippe the other day.”

“Aw, cherie…” Iona said, patting my arm.

I took a bite out of my sandwich.

“So…” Henry said, bored of trying to defend the Green Lantern from Superman’s superior talents, “Do you luuurve him?”

“You can’t ask her that!” Iona cried.

“There’s no law says I can’t,” Henry replied, “Well?”

“No comment,” I answered pertly.

Henry laughed.

“How about Prince Philippe? If we were in the old days, you’d be marrying him, right?”

“He’s ok,” I answered, aware that anything could be taken as anything here.

“Ah! Do we sense rivalry for milady’s hand?” Henry cried.

“Oh, shut up,” Iona said, hitting him.

Henry pouted.

“So, what superhero powers would you possess?” he asked.

“Flight,” Iona said without a moment’s thought.

“Interesting…” David said, “Phil?”

“Er… the ‘tele’ ones.”

We want to be a TV?

“Can’t have more than one,” Henry quipped, “Pick; telekinesis or telepathy?”

“Aw, but they go hand in hand,” I moaned.

“You can’t make her choose,” Iona said.

“He can and he will,” David murmured.

“Fine, Telekinesis,” I decided.

“Cool. Jenn?”

Jenn was reading, and therefore in a different dimension.

“Jenn? This is earth to satellite 121, Jenn can you read me?”

David sighed and gave up.

“What’s your power then, Mr Bigshot?” Iona asked.

“Super-strength!” Henry cried, flexing his arms.

Iona giggled, then blushed bright vermilion.

Love is in the air, do-do-doo do-do-doo…

“Definitely super-speed,” David replied.

“Was someone talking to me?” Jenn asked, looking a little lost.

“Super-powers,” David replied, “What would you have?”

“Oh…” she said, “Um, shape-shifting probably.”

“I never thought of that!” Iona huffed, “Can I change mine?”

“No, you’re officially fly-girl,” Henry said.

“Er…”

“I’m going to look at the bulletin board,” Jenn said, “I’ll not be a moment.”

“I’ll come with you,” I said after a moments thought.

Grandma would probably want me getting into something ‘save the planet’-ish.

“What did you want to look at?” Jenn asked.

“Just clubs and stuff,” I replied.

The bulletin was packed with extra pieces of paper already, student organisations and parties covering up the bog-standard teachers’ notes and rules. I scanned the board wistfully.

Sixth Form Executive Candidates! Speeches in the Hall, midday Thursday.

Tickets for music concert on sale in the lower school office, £3.

Auditions for Oliver! Sign up below.

Need help with revision? Monday after school in respective common rooms.

“Oh look!” Jenn cried.

“What?” I asked, intrigued.

“Dance classes!” she said.

“What type?”

“Ballroom!!”

Jenn looked the most excited I’d ever seen her. She caught me looking surprised.

“I’ve always wanted to learn to tango,” she explained.

“Well sign up,” I suggested.

“No, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t know anyone.”

“Well, I’ll sign up too,” I said, though really, I had quite enough dance on my hands already.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Thank you!”

Jenn gave me an awkward hug and signed her name. I smiled as she handed me the pen and I signed too.

Sign on the dotted line…

Sign away your soul.