Maybe I'm the only brash daughter. As soon as I packed up my things, I slung my bag over one shoulder, then walked cheerfully out of the Algebra class. I glanced at Mr. Jenkins, who was still pressing his forehead against the wall, muttering the name of God over and over.
What's my fault?
You suck, it's your fault, my alter ego spoke to myself with a mocking grin.
Looks like Mr. Jenkins would denounce my insolence to the principal, then I was sentenced, then he told Jackie, then I was scolded, then I was kicked out of the house, then I was free. YES!
If only it was as easy as imagining it. How could Jackie kick me out and make me homeless? My father was there. Automatically she would not do that to me out of respect for him as a husband. Huh, what should I do to get expelled from the royal environment? I don't want to live in Luisa and be a princess everywhere wearing dresses or skirts while walking gracefully and greeting her people sweetly, smelling roses in the garden every day, and giggling pretty.
Eww… I'm Daphne Lane, not that kind of girl. And I'm trying to keep the last name 'Westlake' from being permanently planted. If Dad doesn't want to leave Jackie and his perfect life, then I'll decide to go.
And you become a bum begging on the street, again my alter ego taunts in her sly tone. Huft, what did I do wrong, God? My life is really complicated. As complex as an integral formula that doesn't get stuck in the neurons of my brain at all. I hated my new life, as much as I hated Math and its damn minions; Algebra, Trigonometry, Calculus, Integral, blah blah blah.
Maybe soon the pages of the LA newspaper will be filled with mine, with headlines as big as pillars:
DEPRESSION FACING LIFE, PRINCESS DAPHNE HANGED HERSELF
I walked in a daze along the corridor. But I stopped in my art class when my eyes caught someone busying themselves with palettes, brushes, and canvases. I poked my head in and saw Marcel standing behind the canvas, painting something.