Honestly, this year is going to be worse than 2012. I'm already disgusted with humanity, and it's only the fifth day of the year. I know Sabine has whined about Chrissa before, but it's now my turn!
Chrissa and I were going to put on a short Nutcracker-inspired performance for all of the girls attending the Pleasantview Global Outreach Winter Program. Before we did our makeup, we watched an episode of Breaking Pointe, my favorite TV show. I pointed out Beckanne, who is like one of my role models! Chrissa had never seen it, which was sad. Her favorite TV is Bunheads. We are talking about Bunheads on ABC Family, the EXACT SAME stupid TV station that overdid The Secret Life of the American Teenager and butchered The Lying Game and Pretty Little Liars. If I were Sara Shepard, I wouldn't have let ABC Family destroy my books! Anyway, Bunheads is just too sickeningly cutesy for me. The only darn thing ABC Family EVER gets right is their 25 Days of Christmas specials. Yeah, there are obnoxious TV stations in France, too, but ABC Family gives them a run for their money sometimes. Rant over. I could rant about other stupid American TV stations because there are plenty, but I'm sure nobody wants to hear that.
Chrissa doesn't see the problem with ABC Family, but then again, she doesn't see the problem with a lot of things.
For example, she doesn't realize that eyeliner is supposed to LINE your eyes. Duh. English is my second language, and I even know why "liner" is part of the word. It's not supposed to mask your eyelids!
"Chrissa," I rolled my eyes. "You have it all over your eyes!"
Chrissa said, "Sorry! I'm bad with doing my own makeup, especially eyeliner!"
I sighed. "Wash it off and I'll do it for you."
Some people just don't get makeup, but I certainly do. Aside from dancing, doing makeup (and hair) is something I seem to have a gift for. Chrissa looked so much better after I had applied her eyeliner!
I began to do my own makeup when Chrissa told me that she had to tell me something "important". Ugh, she doesn't know what that word even means because everything she deems as "important" isn't even close to being an issue. This time, however, she caught my attention by saying, "My parents think you're a bad influence and don't want me hanging out with you."
I almost dropped my pencil. "What? How am I bad influence?! I don't party or do dumb things like a lot of people our age! I have some kind of focus in my life! Your parents don't even know me. That's ridiculous."
I took a moment to regain composure. Chrissa had the most clueless expression on her face, and I glared at her and said, "What did you tell them? You obviously told them stuff to make them say that about me."
Chrissa sighed. She didn't know where to begin- I could tell. "Well, um, my parents just asked about you, and since I talk about you a lot, they wanted to see your Twitter, Instagram, Facebook...you get it. They think you are really pretty, but they think there is something 'off'...er, not normal...about you. The fact that your evil friend who hated me disappeared and pushed you doesn't help, either. I don't know. I can't really explain it. It's them, not you. I'm still going to hang out with you since they can't tell me what to do when I'm away from home."
I gulped. That was part of my problems, I guess; I couldn't hide them, no matter how hard I tried. However, Chrissa doesn't know my secret. Her family doesn't. Nobody does except for my family and me. There was no way that Chrissa or her family could be onto my secret. Chrissa was too oblivious to figure anything out in order to confirm her parents' potential suspicions about my problems or Ophélie's bizarre disappearance. Or, that was what I wanted to think.
Honestly, though, it's one thing to think I have problems, but to think that I had something to do with Ophélie is a far stretch. I mean, mon dieu, I was in the hospital recovering from a concussion when she vanished!
I had to put on my stage face as we began our performance, even though I wanted to get more information from Chrissa. She is terrible at explaining most anything, so I'm not surprised that something wasn't adding up in the little story she told me.
On a happier note, here are some photos of Chrissa and me performing. She was Clara in her studio's production, and I was the Snow Queen for two of my studio's shows.
A fun Nutcracker collage that we made:
After everything that happened between Chrissa and me, I was considering consulting my psychologist again. But I don't want to. I don't want him to think I need his help because I don't. I had other issues. Bigger issues. I had another plan.
I'm going to find out what happened to Ophélie.
Bisous,
Sandrine
