Read Online It's a Girl Thing by Grace Dent - Free Book Online Page B

presumptuously felt-tipped Blackwell Live across.
    â€œRiiiiiiiight,” says McGraw crossly. The one thing more annoying than thick pupils, he’s just discovered, is flipping smarty pants pupils, they must drive him mad.
    â€œOh, dear, is that the time?” announces McGraw. “Sorry, girls, your time’s up, I’ve got a class to supervise in two minutes.”
    Our headmaster rather abruptly winds up our appointment; obviously he’s heard quite enough. “We’ll get back to you forthwith on this matter,” he says, nodding toward the door. “Off you pop now, you don’t want to be late for third period.”
    There’s nothing much else we can do now, well, aside from claim squatters’ rights and refuse to leave his office.
    Claude looks crestfallen; she packs her orange folder into her little black rucksack, thanks both the teachers for their time and makes toward the door; Fleur and I follow closely behind. However, as Mrs. Guinevere holds open the door, directing us three disheartened LBD members through, she whispers under her breath, just loud enough for us to catch, “Don’t hurry away, ladies, wait outside for a moment,” before snapping the door shut, leaving us on the other side.
    â€œI thought I had him there for a minute,” says Claude, her eyes seeming a little bit red-rimmed. “He was on the ropes, I just needed a few more jabs at him . . . ,” she says.
    Fortunately for the LBD, however, behind the door, the bell for round two seems to have already dinged and donged.
    At first, we hear Guinevere and McGraw having a civilized discussion . . . but this turns quickly to just Mrs. Guinevere’s voice, its volume increasing with every sentence. We can’t hear every word from where we are in the corridor; however, the LBD can still make out a few fantastic sentences.
    â€œI cannot believe you sometimes, Samuel!” Mrs. Guinevere says, followed quickly a few moments later by: “You need a rocket placed you know where to get you moving, that’s what you need!”
    Claude and I look at each other, our eyes wide with excitement. I’m really hoping Mrs. Guinevere doesn’t suddenly fling open the door, because Fleur has her ear pressed so firmly against it, she’d certainly fall in and end up perched upon McGraw’s lap.
    But the next part we overhear is the very bestest bit of all: “I can leave anytime!” Mrs. Guinevere screeches, obviously not realizing that we can hear her. “I’m not the only staff member combing the Guardian job section for a one-way ticket out of Blackwell, you know!”
    The LBD all place our hands over our mouths at the same time, suppressing fits of giggles.
    After that, everything inside McGraw’s office goes suddenly very silent, the next few minutes dragging by extremely slowly. Claude turns to me with an anxious expression.
    â€œMaybe Mrs. G’s got the sack?” Claude whispers. “It’s very quiet in there now, isn’t it?” Claude gazes down at her polished black shoes, then looks me straight in the eye.
    â€œOh, God, this is all my fault,” she says.
    Just then, the door opens and Mrs. Guinevere appears with a calm, triumphant smile. She claps her hands together in a businesslike manner, then places one carefully manicured hand onto Claude’s shoulder.
    â€œRight, ladies. We’re in business,” our deputy head announces. “You’ve got four weeks to kick this thing into shape. I’m suggesting Saturday, July twelfth for the concert, that’s end of term. Let’s kick summer vacation off with a bang, eh?”
    We all stare at her in disbelief.
    â€œBut you’ve not got a lot of time, so it’s all systems GO from this moment on . . .”
    I wish one of us could think of something to say back.
    â€œWhat did you call the concert on the front of that folder, Claudette?” Mrs. Guinevere