The Spider Diaries [FIRST DRAFT]

Wednesday, 31 May, 2000: French Friction and Mathematics Mayhem

Colby is standing in front of me and he's grinning. I don't know why, but he's in a tux.

What the hell is going on here?

Daa du-du daa! Daa du-du daa!

Wedding music?

Cole's there, too...

And he's grinning more than Colby, he's crying.

What. The. Actual. Fuck?

I look down at myself. I have a bouquet of white orchids and dusty rose pink roses. I don't even like roses.

My view is slightly obscured by a veil. White lace.

Oh. My. Shit!

I'm getting married!

Colby's crying, too, beside Cole.

Which one?

I sit up straight in bed. What the hell was that about?

I try holding on to my dream, but the details slip through the cracks.

***

Late again. I really don't understand how I can be late when I'm woken up by dreams/nightmares before five o'clock in the frigging morning.

I take my time fetching my books since I'm already late and I have French, hip-hip hooray... Note my sarcasm.

"Mme Mercury." Mrs. Bellamy acknowledges me, "Detention this afternoon. Two to four. Don't be late. Now sit down!" She yells. Great. Fucking great.

"Yes, Mme Bellamy." I say and quickly sit down in my assigned seat.

I look at the clock above the whiteboard, where mrs. Bellamy is writing out the formulae she came up with to make French sentence structure easier to remember. I still have another half hour of this woman's class.

I really need to drop this class before I hang myself.

***

The first stop I make after school is the administrative office. It's right at the front of the school. It's a nice building - brick face and deep red carpeted floor.

I ask the receptionist - and Indian lady who looks to be in her late thirties - if I could meet with the deputy principal, who deals with subject transfers, among other things.

She asks me to take a seat in one of the sofa-like chairs that surround a small wooden coffee table with a glass top.

She puts the receiver for the landline to her ear and taps a number into the dialpad.

"Good day, sir. I'm sorry to be-" her apology is cut short by the deputy, on the other side of the line. "I have a ms..." she looks at me expectantly. I supply my name quickly. "Jane Mercury to see you."

There's a short pause. She's receiving instructions. "Yes, Mr. Carl. I'll let her kno-" she's cut off again. "Of course, sir. Good day."

She looks mortified. What did Mr. Carl tell her?

"He'll be with you shortly." Mrs. de Wet informs me. Does he not come to meet his appointments in the front office?

Just then, Mr. Carl walks into the room. I stand up immediately. He's intimidating when I'm standing, imagine me sitting.

He holds his hand out to me and I take it - his calloused hand rough against mine.

His hair is a greyed out blonde. He has dark eyes. If you didn't know any better, you'd think that they were black. Good thing I know better. His broad shoulders and chest add to his intimidating look.