Letters to a Princess Read Online Free Page B

put up with it!’ Graham shouted.
    ‘She’s crazy. She needs a pie-chiatrist,’ Marcus said as he swiped my share of the food. When Graham left the room he added, ‘Ugly Di gets uglier. And ugly Di, dies. Ha, shitface!’
    ‘You’re a pig! An absolutely disgusting pig!’ I came back at him as he stuffed his mouth, but I had the good sense to leave the room as I said it.
    I wanted to talk to Zoë but I figured she’d be out with Jason or chatting to him on the phone. So I did the only thing I could do in that house. I went back to my room and back to the desk.
    Dear Princess Diana,
    My mum always said jealousy was a curse. She must have been right because it certainly hurts. I’m so jealous that my friend Zoë has a boyfriend, I can’t even think straight. It seems so unfair. She’s pretty, popular and smart.She has a loving family and all the girls at school think she’s a goddess, and now she’s got a boyfriend. She’s my best friend but it makes me feel like I’m not even in her league. Not even close. Now Zoë has someone special who thinks she’s amazing and I can’t help having this dark jealous feeling, even though I like Jason Chee and of course I love Zoë. How do I make this nasty feeling go away? I must be such a cow to think like this.
    The truth is, I just want to be loved by someone special too. My family, if you could call it that, is no use there. Sometimes I think I might never be loved by anyone. Ever! And that makes me frightened. I wonder if you’ve ever had that same fear?
    When this dark feeling wraps around me like a blanket, I miss my mum even more. It feels like there’s no point in going on without her. I know this sounds dramatic but now that she’s gone it’s like a big gaping hole in the universe. And no matter how many friends, shrinks, whoever, tell me I should kinda get on with it, I can’t help this scary feeling, that I just can’t do it all by myself, from taking over.
    Mum and I did everything together—well, before Graham came along anyway. And I mean everything. One of Mum’s favourite pastimes was shopping. Mostly window shopping, of course. But even with not much money shewas exciting to be with when she was on one of her shopping trawls.
    ‘Just wait till you clap your eyes on this, Di-Di. You’ll love it!’ She’d take me by the hand through the shopping mall as if we were in Wonderland and I was a little kid. Just before the shop in question, or the article in question, she’d sometimes say, ‘Close your eyes sweetheart and don’t open till I tell you.’ Then she’d let go of my hand and say dramatically, ‘Now open them!’ And there’d be what she’d call the most darling pair of jeans at Target, or a simply must-have fake handbag at Sussan. I’m not a mad shopper like she was but Mum made it a high adventure. Although that changed a lot once Graham came on the scene. Mum went up-market, shopping at big posh stores and she usually took Graham with her.
    Mum had great taste in clothes. Babs always said things like, ‘Your mother can throw on any old thing and dress it up with a scarf or a wrap just like that! She’s got a colour conscience that’s for sure.’ She meant Mum was ‘colour conscious’ but I agreed with her without cracking a smile because it was true my mum had style. Mum took special care with her clothes and make-up. She always told me what to wear too, every detail down to the colour of the shoes, because I’m not madly interested the way she was.
    My mum knew about everything I did. When I camein from school she’d be waiting for me. To be honest, sometimes I felt like she was going to pounce on me if I didn’t give her every detail of my day—conversations, the lot. One funny thing, though, was the time when my English teacher (not my current one who hates my guts) said I had talent and should do some writing in my spare time. When I told Mum about it, she got a bit angry. I never really knew why.
    Sometimes when I was