Tales From a Not-So-Graceful Ice Princess
Rachel Renée Russell
DorkDiaries.com
ALADDIN * Simon & Schuster, New York * Cover designed by Lisa Vega * Cover illustrations Copyright © 2012 by Rachel Renée Russell * Ages 9–13 * 0612 *
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ALSO BY
Rachel Renée Russell
Dork Diaries:
Tales from a Not-So-Fabulous Life
Dork Diaries 2:
Tales from a Not-So-Popular Party Girl
Dork Diaries 3:
Tales from a Not-So-Talented Pop Star
Dork Diaries 31/2:
How to Dork Your Diary
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ALADDIN * An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division * 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020 www.SimonandSchuster.com * First Aladdin hardcover edition June 2012 * Copyright © 2012 by Rachel Renée Russell * All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. * ALADDIN is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc., and related logo is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc. * The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com. * Designed by Lisa Vega * The text of this book was set in Skippy Sharp. * Full CIP data for this book is available from the Library of Congress * ISBN 978-1-4424-1192-0 * ISBN 978-1-4424-1193-7 (eBook)
To my daughter Erin, the original, slightly insecure Dork, who grew up to be a bold, brainy, and beautiful Dork
Contents
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1: Sunday, December 1
Chapter 2: Monday, December 2
Chapter 3: Tuesday, December 3
Chapter 4: Wednesday, December 4
Chapter 5: Thursday, December 5
Chapter 6: Friday, December 6
Chapter 7: Saturday, December 7
Chapter 8: Sunday, December 8
Chapter 9: Monday, December 9
Chapter 10: Tuesday, December 10
Chapter 11: Wednesday, December 11
Chapter 12: Thursday, December 12
Chapter 13: Friday, December 13
Chapter 14: Saturday, December 14
Chapter 15: Sunday, December 15
Chapter 16: Monday, December 16
Chapter 17: Tuesday, December 17
Chapter 18: Wednesday, December 18
Chapter 19: Thursday, December 19
Chapter 20: Friday, December 20
Chapter 21: Saturday, December 21
Chapter 22: Sunday, December 22
Chapter 23: Monday, December 23
Chapter 24: Tuesday, December 24
Chapter 25: Wednesday, December 25
Chapter 26: Thursday, December 26
Chapter 27: Friday, December 27
Chapter 28: Saturday, December 28
Chapter 29: Sunday, December 29
Chapter 30: Monday, December 30
Chapter 31: Tuesday, December 31
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To all of my Dork Diaries fans—thank you for allowing these books into your hearts. There could be no Nikki Maxwell without you. Why? Because YOU are HER! Stay uniquely you and always remember to let your inner DORK shine through.
Liesa Abrams Mignogna, my fabulous editor, who makes writing these books so inspiring and so much fun that I STILL pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. Like Nikki Maxwell, you’re an amazing real-life Dork with a hot photographer crush (your hubby!). Thank you for being my dream editor!
Lisa Vega, my supertalented art director, who works tirelessly on this book series and knows the Dork Diaries character art SO well you’re able to tell ME when MacKenzie is having a bad hair day. That’s just too awesomely weird.
Mara Anastas, Paul Crichton, Carolyn Swerdloff, Matt Pantoliano, Katherine Devendorf, Alyson Heller, and the rest of my wonderful team at Aladdin/Simon & Schuster, thank you for taking this series into the stratosphere with your vision and hard work.
Daniel Lazar, my supersweet, hardworking agent at Writers House, thank you for your blood, sweat, and tears. There’s just no way I could have done any of this without you. Most of all, thank you for supporting my dreams and slightly wacky ideas. You are truly a dear friend.
A special thanks to Stephen Barr for all your help on our How to Dork Your Diary book and for keeping me laughing. And to Torie Doherty for keeping everything organized and sending me those exciting e-mails.
Maja Nikolic, Cecilia de la Campa, and Angharad Kowal, my foreign rights agents at Writers House, thank you for putting the Dork Diaries books into the hands of children around the world.
Nikki Russell, my supertalented assistant artist, and Erin Russell, my supertalented assistant writer. OMG! Where do I begin? I am so happy and blessed to be your mom. Thank you for helping me bring this book series to the world. You’re the original Dorks, who were (and still ARE) my inspiration for writing these books. I love you both SO much!
Sydney James, Cori James, Presli James, Arianna Robinson, and Mikayla Robinson, my nieces, for being brutal critique partners and willing to work for a shopping spree at the mall and cheese fries.
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 1
OMG!
I have never been so EMBARRASSED in my entire life!!
And this time, it WASN’T at the hands of my snobby, lip-gloss-addicted enemy, MacKenzie Hollister.
I still can’t figure out why my very own sister, Brianna, would humiliate me like this.
It all started earlier this afternoon, when I noticed my hair was greasier than a supersized order of fries. I needed either a shower or an emergency Jiffy Lube oil change. I’m so NOT lying.
I hadn’t been in the shower more than a minute when SOMEONE started pounding on the bathroom door like a maniac. I nervously peeked out of the shower and was like, “What the . . . ??!!”
“How much longer are you going to HOG the bathroom?” Brianna yelled. “NIKKI . . . ?!”
BAM!! BAM!! BAM!!
“Brianna, stop banging on the door! I’m in the shower!”
“But I think I left my doll in there. She and Miss Penelope were having a pool party and—”
“WHAT?! Sorry, Brianna! I do NOT want to hear about your poo in the potty.”
“NO! I said ‘POOL PARTY’! I need to come in and get my doll so I—”
“I CAN’T open the door right now. GO AWAY!!”
“But, Nikki, I gotta use the toilet! Really BAD!”
“Just use the one downstairs!”
“But my doll isn’t in the bathroom downstairs!”
“Sorry, but you can’t get your doll right now! Wait until I’m done with my shower!”
Unfortunately, one minute later . . .
BAM!! BAM!! BAM!!
Did Brianna think I was stupid or something? I was NOT about to fall for the old open-the-bathroom-door-because-you-have-a-very-important-telephone-call trick.
“Sure, Brianna! Just tell ’em I don’t feel like talking right now.”
“Um, hello. Nikki says she doesn’t want to talk right now. . . . I don’t know? Hold on . . . ! Nikki, the person wants to know when to call back.”
BAM!! BAM!! BAM!!
“NIKKI?! The person wants to know when—�
�
“NEVER! Tell them to call back NEVER! And they can DROP DEAD for all I care. All I want to do right now is TAKE A SHOWER!! So, please, Brianna! Just LEAVE ME ALONE!!”
“Um, hello. Nikki said to call her back never! And drop dead too! . . . Uh-huh. And guess why . . . ?!”
That’s when it occurred to me that just maybe someone WAS actually on the telephone. But WHO? I hardly ever get any telephone calls.
“Because YOU got COOTIES! That’s why!”
Brianna laughed like a criminally insane clown.
I was a little worried because that insult sounded really . . . familiar. She’d said the exact same thing to someone just yesterday. But there was no way that person would EVER call ME!
Suddenly I got this really sick, panicky feeling deep inside, and my mouth started screaming, “NOOOOOOOO!”
I grabbed a towel and scrambled out of the shower soaking wet and completely covered in soap suds.
“Okay, Brianna!!” I whisper-shouted. “GIVE. ME. THAT. PHONE. NOW!”
But she just stuck her tongue out at me and continued blabbing on the phone like she was talking to a long-lost friend from kindergarten.
I could NOT believe Brianna was telling all of MY personal business like that. How DARE she?! “Brianna! Hand over that phone or else . . . !”
“Say ‘pretty please with sugar on top’!”
“Okay! Give me the phone, pretty please with sugar on top!”
“NO! Too bad, so sad!” Then that evil little munchkin stuck her tongue out at me (AGAIN!) and continued blabbing on the phone.
“Anyway, my friend Miss Penelope sneaked Nikki’s new perfume. She loved how it smelled even though she doesn’t got a nose. We sprayed it on stuff to make it smell pretty. Like my feet, the garbage can in the garage, and that dead squirrel in Mrs. Wallabanger’s backyard!”
Hijacking my phone calls was bad enough. But she’s been fumigating things with my Sassy Sasha perfume as well?! I wanted to STRANGLE her!
“Give me that PHONE, you little BRAT!” I hissed.
But she just said “Toodles!” and took off running.
Chasing Brianna was VERY dangerous!
OMG! At one point I slipped and almost slid right down the stairs and into the kitchen. That would have been a first-degree rug burn for sure! OUCH! It made me cringe just thinking about it!
I finally cornered Brianna and was just about to tackle her, when she dropped the phone and ran screaming down the hall. “Help! Help! The slime mold in the shower grew arms and legs and is trying to SLIME me! Somebody call 911!”
I picked up the phone and tried to act coolly nonchalant, and not like I was standing there . . .
1. In a bath towel
2. Dripping wet, AND
3. Covered with enough soap suds to wash a small herd of very dirty llamas.
I cleared my throat and answered in my cutest, most perky-sounding voice . . .
“UM . . . HELLO-OO!!”
“Nikki? What’s up! It’s me, Brandon!”
I could NOT believe what my ears were actually hearing. This was the very FIRST time my crush had ever called me! I thought I was going to have a heart attack right there on the spot.
“Hi, Brandon! I’m really sorry. That was my little sister. She makes up the craziest stuff. Actually.”
“No problem! So . . . I’m just calling to let you know I’m inviting a few friends over for my birthday in January. I was hoping you, Chloe, and Zoey would come.”
That’s when I fainted. Okay, ALMOST fainted.
“Wow! Um, well! I, er . . . Can you hold on for a minute? There’s something I need to do.”
“Sure. Do you want me to call you back?”
“Nope. It’ll only take a minute.”
I carefully covered the phone with my hand and then proceeded to have a massively severe attack of RCS, also known as . . .
ROLLER COASTER SYNDROME!!
Okay. So maybe I overreacted just a little bit.
It wasn’t like Brandon was asking me out on a date or something. I wish!
Anyway, after we finished our telephone conversation, I pinched myself really hard just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. OUCH!! Yep, I was awake! Which means CHLOE, ZOEY, AND I ARE INVITED TO BRANDON’S PARTY !!!
It’s gonna be a blast! I can hardly wait!
Especially considering the fact that I’m the biggest dork at my school and pretty much NEVER get invited to parties.
OMG! I JUST HAD THE MOST HORRIBLE THOUGHT !!! . . .
After his conversation with Brianna, Brandon probably thinks I’m some kind of, um . . .
HAIRY-LEGGED . . .
CRUSTY-EYED . . .
FREAK!!!
Why would he want to hang out with ME?!!
There is NO WAY I can go to Brandon’s party!
I’m going to call him back right now and tell him I can’t come.
DUH!! I completely forgot! I STILL need to finish my SHOWER! So I’ll call him afterward.
And then I’m going to crawl into a very deep hole and . . . DIE of EMBARRASSMENT!
!
MONDAY, DECEMBER 2
I’m totally dreading seeing Brandon in school today.
It’s hard to believe that just a couple days ago we were rocking our school’s talent show together in our band, Dorkalicious (also known as Actually, I’m Not Really Sure Yet). Yes, it’s a crazy name and a long story.
He even gave me lessons on his drum set. It seemed like we were FINALLY becoming good friends.
But then Brianna the Brat RUINED everything!
I’m surprised Brandon even bothered to invite me to his party. I bet he only did it because he feels sorry for me or something.
I wanted to talk to Chloe and Zoey about all of this during gym, but I didn’t get a chance to. Mainly because the entire class was buzzing about nabbing a really cool, FREE T-shirt for this show called Holiday on Ice.
But after our gym teacher practically shattered my eardrums, all I really wanted was for her to accidentally SWALLOW that stupid whistle!
Then she made a big announcement. . . .
“Okay. Listen up, people! We’ll be starting our ice-skating section next week. Grades will be based on the skill level each student successfully masters. However, as part of our Westchester Country Day holiday tradition and to encourage community service, all eighth-grade students participating in the Westchester Holiday on Ice charity show on December thirty-first will get to practice their routines during class and receive an automatic A. Yes, folks! You heard that right! I’ll be giving out As like candy canes to support this great cause. Just let me know whether you’ll be doing the skills testing or the ice show. Now hustle up to the table and grab a free Holiday on Ice T-shirt. Then get started on your warm-up exercises.”
That T-shirt thing did NOT go so well for me.
By the time I got to the table, all that was left was size XXXXXL. MacKenzie, of course, looked like she was ready for the summer cover of Seventeen magazine.
I was so . . . DISGUSTED !
Of course MacKenzie took one look at my T-shirt and started giving me unwanted fashion advice. “Nikki, do you want to hear my idea for how to make your T-shirt stylishly elegant, yet practical?”
“No, MacKenzie. Actually, I don’t.”
“Just add three inches of white lace around the hem, a veil, and a bouquet of flowers, and you can use it as a WEDDING dress! Then all you have to do is PAY some FREAKISHLY ugly guy to marry you!”
I could NOT believe she actually said that right to my face like that.
“Thanks, MacKenzie!” I said, smiling sweetly. “But where will I find a freakishly ugly guy? Oh, I know! Do YOU have a twin BROTHER?!”
Only MacKenzie would be STUPID enough to make a wedding dress out of a five-sizes-too-big T-shirt. But that’s because her IQ is LOWER than an empty bottle of nail polish!
MACKENZIE’S VERY STUPID IDEA FOR A DESIGNER T-SHIRT WEDDING DRESS
Calling MacKenzie a “m
ean girl” is an understatement. She’s a GRIZZLY BEAR with a French manicure and blond hair extensions.
But I’m not jealous of her or anything. Like, how juvenile would THAT be?
Anyway, I was excited about skating in class. The last time I did it was back in, like, third grade, and it was a lot of fun.
Chloe said we’d be skating at the ice hockey arena at WCD High School.
Apparently, the Holiday on Ice show is a big deal, and only students in grades eight to twelve can participate to raise money for their favorite charity. The show donates $3,000 to every charity that a skater, skating pair, or group sponsors.
We were about to start our exercises when suddenly Chloe got this crazy look in her eyes and started doing jazz hands.
“Hey, you guys! Guess what I’m thinking!”
But I already knew. Lately, she’s been obsessed with this new book called The Ice Princess.
It’s about a girl and a guy who have been best friends since grade school.
She’s training to be a world-class figure skater while he’s working toward a spot on the Olympic hockey team.
Just as they’re about to fall in love, they discover that their ice arena is the secret hideout of the Deadly Ice Vambies, half-vampire and half-zombie beings whose supernatural ice-skating abilities grow more and more powerful every time they eat a double bacon cheeseburger.
“There is no reason why WE can’t be Ice Princesses too! Just like Crystal Coldstone!” Chloe sighed dreamily.
Personally, I could think of TWO very good reasons why we COULDN’T be like Crystal.
First, we haven’t been training with a skating coach for the past twelve years. Second, it was going to be really difficult to slay Deadly Ice Vambies on school nights and still get our homework done on time.
Zoey got this wistful, faraway look in her eyes. “How ROMANTIC! And hockey players ARE kind of cute! Besides, I’d much rather make up a really cool skating routine and get an A than do boring skills testing. We’ll have a blast! How about it, Nikki?”
