Read Online Just Your Average Princess by Kristina Springer - Free Book Online

have to get back to the Patch and see for myself what’s going on.
    When I get home I change into my overalls at warp speed, throw my hair into two braids, and get out to the Patch. I walk from booth to booth, acting like I’m looking for something, but actually I’m trying to find Milan. I finally spot her in the face-painting booth, surrounded by a bunch of preteens, and I breathe a sigh of relief. At least Danny’s not with her. I hang back for a moment, studying her. She’s smiling and looks like she’s having a good time talking to the group of girls. One of them turns around to shout something to her mother and I see exactly what kind of face painting Milan has been doing.
    I’m at Milan’s side in ten fast steps. “Excuse me,” I say to the group of girls, and give Milan’s arm a tug.
    Milan throws me an annoyed look and snaps her arm free from my grasp. “What?”
    I motion to the back of the booth with my head. “Can I talk to you for a moment? Over there.”
    Milan lets out a loud, dramatic sigh and slowly stands. “I’ll be back in a sec,” she says to the girls, and they nod eagerly. She drops the makeup tubes and brushes onto the table with a thud.
    I wait in the back of the booth and Milan steps in front of me, arms crossed. “What did I do now? Is my outfit offending you today?” she asks.
    I briefly glance at her outfit. True, while it’s short, tight, and skimpy, at least she’s not flashing anything. I shake my head. “No. That’s not it. It’s only, did anyone tell you how to do the face painting?”
    Milan turns her head and looks at the group of girls smiling at her and then returns her gaze to me. “They look good. What’s there to tell me?”
    â€œWell.” I lower my voice. “You have them done up like Bratz dolls with those big magenta eyelids and lips. And that heavy eyeliner … I mean, you’re supposed to draw things on their cheeks. You know, like pumpkins and hearts and smiley faces. Haven’t you ever had your face painted as a kid?”
    Milan looks at me like I’m about the stupidest person to walk the face of the earth. She rubs her lips together and says, “Listen, when you start wearing makeup then maybe I’ll consider your advice as to how to apply it. But right now, I don’t need any help from you .” With that, she turns and heads for the waiting girls. “Okay, ladies, where’d we leave off?”
    I stare at Milan’s back, stunned. I totally do wear makeup. I just don’t cake it on like Milan does and I certainly don’t wear it for work. And the way she said “you” like I’m the worst person ever or something.
    I glance around the face-painting booth and see that I’ve been dismissed by both Milan and the group of girls she’s entertaining. And I’m not going to lie, my feelings are hurt. I was only trying to be helpful. She is doing it wrong.
    I slink out of the booth and walk down the path to the storybook barn. It was always one of my favorite places as a kid. The outside of the barn is painted in a cheery yellow and the inside is full of large panels with various storybook and nursery rhyme scenes painted on them. There’s Humpty-Dumpty on one and Little Red Riding Hood on another. Jack and Jill running up the hill, the kid in the corner with the pie, and Mary and her lamb play out across more panels. There is a large bookcase full of children’s books, and teeny tiny tables and chairs for the kids to sit and color at if they want while they’re listening to the stories. Or they can sit on the big cushy circle carpet. And there is a giant Mother Goose in the middle of the barn that the kids love to climb on and mothers love to snap their pictures with. Maybe I’ll find a comfy beanbag and read to some of the little kids for a while. Or hide out.
    I stay in the storybook