The Bride's Brood

Chapter 2: Madam Bossart’s School for Ladies

Unwilling, uninspired, and uncouth… these are just some of the words that best describe how I feel right now. However, I need to find a way to put Adrienne in her place.

Madam Bossart’s School for Ladies run for 30 days per season. I’m on the 10th day and I’ve learned a lot of useless things already. Most them are easy to remember but somehow, are still very hard to apply.

I also made a friend and she’s from Singapore of Indian descent. Her name’s Aishwarya. She was named after a beauty queen and she has the most stunning green eyes that I’ve ever seen in my life.

Her parents didn’t make a bad decision by naming her after someone she truly resembles.

She belongs to a family of textile importers and she drives a Bentley. Yes, she’s one of those privileged teens that you see on the internet. However, you won’t feel an air of arrogance from her.

We became close when I helped her use chopsticks at one class we had.

“You must have men lined up to you back home.” Aishwarya says right after blowing a smoke from a long cigarette drag.

“Well… I don’t know Ash. I really don’t pay that much attention.” I reply.

She turns her head from side to side and smiles.

“Look at you. Soft skin, blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, slim nose, pouty lips, and big t**s. Don’t worry, I have a girlfriend.” she adds nonchalantly.

Wait what!? Ash is a lesbian?

I don’t have any problem with lesbians. It’s just that most of them from home look nothing like her.

I’ve heard about the existence of lipstick lesbians but it’s just shocking to get to know one while I’m in a school of women who dream of marrying rich men.

“This school sucks. I’m just doing this to make my mom happy. I’ve disappointed her far too many times already. How about you? Looking for a rich husband eh?” she quips.

To be honest, from my 10 days in this school, I’m starting to get confused as to what I really want.

Yes, I don’t want to depend on a man but Ms. Brighton’s lessons about how it’s not so bad depending on a man financially are slowly and annoyingly, creeping into me.

Even if I think of myself as someone who’s totally independent, apart from not wanting to pay student loans, the picture of having a loving and wealthy husband to take care of is starting to not look so bad.

Besides, I’m naturally very domesticated. I love decorating, baking, and cooking. I enjoy fashion and I think that I would want my future husband to arrive home with a warm meal and a massage waiting for him.

Cut the crap Yulia! You just want to beat Adrienne.

“We’re the same, I’m just enduring this place so that my mom would pay for my Education course in Princeton.” I reply.

“Well then, I’m glad I’m not the only one.” Ash smiles as she stands up from the bench of the school grounds.

“Come on Yulia! You can’t be late if you want to study in Princeton!” she exclaims with an encouraging tone as she signals me to walk with her.

As Ash and I are about to enter the Grand Dining Hall for a Tea Serving Lesson, Adrienne and her new best friend Gabrielle Cruz, cut in front of us.

Gabrielle Cruz is stunning. She’s actually prettier in my own opinion than Adrienne.

She’s Eurasian of Spanish and Japanese descent and her family owns huge shares in the Bank of Madrid.

Her hair is jet-black which contrasted her alabaster skin perfectly. She has a baby face yet with sharp features that are placed only in the right places. She stands about 5ft 7in tall and her curves are glorious and even made more so with our uniform of monochromatic beige pencil skirt, blazer, and silk camisole.

The only thing that men from the high society wouldn’t like about her, well, most men wouldn’t like about her is that she’s famous for being a slut whose diet consists of cocaine and vodka.

Yes, she’s that kind of “it-girl” who always finds her way on the cover of local tabloids in Spain and Japan.

Today is high ponytail day and we all look like we’re Ariana Grande groupies. However, everyone decorated theirs with a lot of bling; from Swarovski to Chanel.

I didn’t have any and so did Ash so we’re practically doomed.

“Why are they walking towards us?” Ash asks.

“Hi Ladies, we have some extra hair accessories. We thought of lending them to you.” Adrienne says while she hands us a couple of pink hair clips.

“You can also add this for that something extra.” Gabrielle adds as she hands pink bows.

Oh wow, they’re actually not that bad.

“Thanks!” Ash replies with excitement.

Adrienne shoots a friendly smile before walking away with Gabrielle to go back to their seats.

I think I’ve misjudged them. They’re not so bad after all.

I snap the clip on my bangs and as I was tying the pink ribbon on the base of my pony tail…

“Nobody’s missing. Great, we shall start then.” Ms. Diana Waltz announces.

Ms. Diana Waltz is a black woman from Atlanta, Georgia and she’s married to a famous litigator from Bangkok, Thailand.

She still uses her maiden name for business as it’s easier to pronounce than her legal surname which is “Jirapatpakorn”.

Ms. Waltz is in her early 40’s with a very svelte body and stands at around 5ft 11in. She met her husband while working as a stewardess and serving tea in first class so I guess she’s the best person to give this lesson.

Her skin is ebony with a blinding sheen and her facial features are as sharp as Naomi Campbell’s. Suffice to say, she’s perfect.

She’s been teaching in Madam Bossart for 5 years and she’s probably the only friendly person in the school’s staff. Even the butlers have attitudes.

“Before we begin, I’d like to applaud Ms. Leconte’s and Ms. Cruz’s hairstyles. They have really learned the art of elegance in terms of hair styling.” Ms. Waltz says.

It’s not a surprise… Wait what?!

Adrienne and Gabrielle both stand up and bow their heads to Ms. Waltz with their completely unornamented pony tails.

“What can I say ladies? Less is more. Remember, elegance is refusal and it isn’t loud.” Ms. Waltz adds.

“Those bitches!” Ash hisses as she removes her pink hair clip.

Sabotage… How was I not able to smell it?!

“Alright, today, we’re serving tea. Please take a pair of lace gloves on that table.” Ms. Waltz orders as she points to a round table on the corner.

“When serving food and beverage in a party that you’re hosting, you must always wear gloves. This goes to show your utmost care about hygiene and reassures your guests that the food you’re serving doesn’t only look scrumptious, it also won’t afford them a ticket to several trips to the bathroom.” she adds.

The crowd laughs but I could sense the fakery from the room; especially from the 2 topnotchers of Madam Bossart’s School of Fake Bitches.

How hard could pouring tea be?

“What the hell!?” I scream while my cup of tea escapes my grasp.

Somebody just pulled my hair and I’m certain about it.

Oh crap!

My concern about the pain on my scalp suddenly feels so small compared to what I’m seeing right now. A view of my broken tea cup and plate topped with spilled tea all over the white table cloth.

“Oh Yulia… tsk tsk tsk” Gabrielle says while giving me a look of disapproval.

“Ms. Waltz, somebody made a mess over here.” she announces to the whole room.

Ash walks towards me as Adrienne smiles from another round table across mine.

“It’s what you deserve.” Adrienne mouths slowly as Ms. Waltz saunters towards the round table that I share with 3 other girls.

“There is no room for clumsy girls in my class Ms. Ivanov. Please take care of that.” Ms. Waltz orders.

Why do I feel complacent even if I really did get my hair pulled? I feel like even if the disaster wasn’t entirely my fault, I can’t seem to find the guts to voice the truth out.

Besides, who am I going to blame? I didn’t see anybody pulling my hair and nobody in the table seems to care.

I fear that I’ll lose a shot at being Ms. Bossart’s Lady of Summer. Is this the new me? Within just 10 days, did I become a new person?

I was the captain of our volleyball team in High School. I also won a debate about Global Warming. My voice and my strengths were the only things that I had total control of and now, this weak damsel in distress…

Is this who I want to be? Is this the price that I have to pay to be elegant?