Nikki’s face flushed as red as the book’s glittery lettering. If MacKenzie posted a photo of them with the advanced copy, the publisher might recall it. Worse, their secret reading fort would be discovered.
Before anyone could stop her, Nikki drew a quick, terrible doodle on the whiteboard. It was a princess in a sparkly crown, but with giant buck teeth and a unibrow. Underneath, she wrote: “MacKenzie’s New Year’s Resolution: Find a personality that isn’t just her phone case.” dork diaries books new
She was standing in the middle of the school library, holding a glossy, hardcover book that smelled like victory and fresh printer’s ink. The cover was a vibrant explosion of glitter and hot pink, featuring a cartoon girl with a pencil behind her ear, tripping over a library cart. The title, embossed in shimmering silver foil, read: Nikki’s face flushed as red as the book’s
Then, in her best dramatic voice, she read aloud from the book: “‘McKenzie’s smile was so fake, scientists could use it to study artificial sweeteners.’” Before anyone could stop her, Nikki drew a
“That’s not funny,” she said, but her voice had lost its venom. She turned and flounced away, phone still in hand, but the photo remained unsent.
The new Dork Diaries book hadn’t just given her a few hours of escape. It had given her a weapon. Not a sword of insults, but a shield of laughter. And for the first time, Nikki Maxwell realized that being a dork wasn't about the books you read. It was about the courage to write your own story—even if it was full of doodles, disasters, and the occasional unflattering portrait of a popular girl.