Vanna is happy.
Jacob is home.
We were sitting in the parlor a few days ago, and Grandfather led in a strange looking boy with brown dirt smeared on his left temple right down to his chapped lips. "This young man requested to be with you, ladies." Grandfather looked dubious and he walked out. The boy just stood there and suddenly Vanna jumped up and screamed "JACOB!"
I had started to have hope that Vanna could back off of her boyishly immature ways, I even told her, but her and Claire just glared at me and Claire rebuked me saying, "She's not immature just because her closest friend is a boy." "She plays pranks!" I protested, but Claire continued to side with Little Miss Vanna. She says I'm jealous. No such thing in my vocabulary!
Which reminds me. Lately that Tatiana lady has been making Vanna do weird things. She's been making us carry books on our heads during lessons, but Vanna does it randomly now. She's changing, right and left. Except for the pranks part, of course.
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