Anyway, what if the dress squeezes me to death and then I'm lying in my coffin, looking all pale and queenly, and Michael comes to my funeral and ends up gazing down at me and doesn't realize until right then that he has always loved me?
Then he'll have to break up with Judith Gershner.
Hey. It could happen.
OK, well, probably not, but thinking about that was better than listening to Grandmere and Sebastiano talk about me as if I wasn't even there.
I was roused from my pleasant little fantasy about Michael pining for me for the rest of his life by Sebastiano saying suddenly, 'She has bute bone struck,' which, when I realized I was the she he was referring to, I took to be a compliment about my
bone structure.
Only a second later it wasn't such a compliment when he went, 'I put make-up on her that make her look like a mod.'
Which, of course, is insulting because a nice person would say that I already look like a model (although of course I don't).
Grandmere certainly wasn't about to come to my. defence, however. She was feeding bits of her leftover veal marsala to Rommel, who was sitting on her lap shivering as usual since all of his fur fell out due to canine allergies.
'I wouldn't count on her father letting you,' she said to Sebastiano. 'Philippe is hopelessly old-fashioned.'
Which is so the pot calling the kettle black! I mean, Grandmere still thinks that cats go around trying to suck the breath out of their owners while they are sleeping. Seriously. She is always trying to convince me to give Fat Louie away.
So while Grandmere was going on about how old-fashioned her son is, I got up and joined him on the balcony.
He was checking his messages on his mobile. He's supposed to play racquetball tomorrow with the prime minister of France, who is in town for the same summit as the Emperor of Japan.
'Mia,' he said, when he saw me. 'What are you doing out here? It's freezing. Go back inside.'
'I will in a minute,' I said. I stood there next to him and looked out over the city. It really is kind of awe-inspiring, the view of Manhattan from the penthouse of the Plaza Hotel. I mean, you look at all those lights in all those windows and you think, for each light there's probably at least one person, but maybe even more, maybe even like ten people, and that's, well, pretty mind-boggling.
I've lived in Manhattan my whole life but it still impresses me.
Anyway, while I was standing there, looking at all the lights, I suddenly realized that one of them probably belonged to Judith Gershner. Judith was probably sitting in her room right this moment cloning something new. A pigeon or whatever. I got yet another flash of her and Michael looking down at me after I'd split open my tongue. Hmm, let me see: girl who can clone
things, or girl who bit her own tongue? I don't know, which girl would you choose?
My dad must have noticed something was wrong, since he went, 'Look, I know Sebastiano is a bit much, but just put up with him for the next couple of weeks. For my sake.'
'I wasn't thinking about Sebastiano,' I said sadly.
My dad made this grunting noise but he made no move to go back inside, even though it was about forty degrees out there
and my dad, well, he's completely bald. I could see that the tips of his ears were getting red with cold, but still he didn't budge. He didn't even have a coat on, just one of his ubiquitous charcoal-grey Armani suits.
I figured this was invitation enough to go on. You see, ordinarily my dad is not who I would go to first if I had a problem. Not that we're not close. It's just that, you know, he's a guy. What does he know about teenage girls?
On the other hand, he's had a lot of experience in the romance department so I figured he might just be able to offer some insight into this particular dilemma.
'Dad,' I said. 'What do you do if you like someone but they don't, you know, know it?'
My dad went, 'If Kenny doesn't know you like him by now then I'm afraid he's never going to get the message. Haven't you been out with him every weekend since Halloween?'
This is the problem with having a bodyguard who is on your father's payroll: all of your personal business totally gets discussed behind your back.
'I'm not talking about Kenny, Dad,' I said. 'It's someone else. Only like I said, he doesn't know I like him.'
'What's wrong with Kenny?' my dad wanted to know. 'I like Kenny.'
Of course my dad likes Kenny. Because the chances of me and Kenny ever getting past first base are like nil. What father doesn't want his teenage daughter to date a guy like that?
But if my dad has any serious hope of keeping the Genovian throne in the hands of the Renaldos and not allowing it to slip
into Sebastiano's control, he had better get over the whole Kenny thing, because I'm pretty sure that Kenny and I will not be doing any procreating. In this lifetime, anyway.
'Dad,' I said. 'Forget Kenny, OK? Kenny and I are just friends. I'm talking about someone else.'
My dad was looking over the side of the balcony railing, like he wanted to spit. Not that he ever would. I don't think. 'Do I know him? This someone else, I mean?'
I hesitated. I've never really admitted to anyone out loud that I have a crush on Michael. Really. I mean, who could I tell? Lilly would just make fun of me - or worse, tell him. And Mom, well, she's got her own problems.
'It's Lilly's brother,' I said, in a rush, to get it over with.
My dad looked alarmed. 'Isn't he in college?'
'Not yet,' I said. 'He's going in the fall.' When he still looked alarmed, I said, 'Don't worry, Dad. I don't stand a chance. Michael is very smart. He'd never want someone like me.'
Then my dad got all offended. It was like he couldn't figure out which to be, worried about my liking a senior, or angry that
the senior didn't like me back.
'What do you mean, he'd never want someone like you?' my father demanded. 'What's wrong with you?'
'Duh, Dad,' I said. 'I practically flunked Algebra, remember? Michael is going to an Ivy League school in the fall, for crying
out loud. What would he want with a girl like me?'
Now my dad was really annoyed. 'You may take after your mother as far as your aptitude with numbers is concerned, but
you take after me in every other respect.'
This was surprising to hear. I stuck out my chin and tried to believe it. 'Yeah,' I said.
'And you and I, Mia, are not unintelligent,' my dad went on. 'If you want this Michael fellow, you must let him know it.' My
dad looked at all the lights stretched out before us before going on in a different voice, 'Do not make the mistake I have in the past, Mia, of keeping your feelings to yourself, out of shyness ... or worse, pride.'
I looked up at my dad kind of sharply at that. Because something in his voice ... I don't know. He just sounded so ... sad.
Was he, I couldn't help wondering, talking about Mom? Like he wished that, before she'd married Mr. Gianini, he had said something to her about how he felt about her? I mean about how he really felt about her - not about her leaving the electricity bills in the salad spinner, but about how he really felt, deep down?
I think maybe so. Especially when he looked down at me - my dad's not super tall, you know, for a guy, but he's taller than
me, anyway - and went, with his eyelids kind of crinkling up at the corners, 'Faint heart never won fair lady, you know, Mia.'
I didn't know what to say to that. I mean, how is a person supposed to reply to something like that?
Not that it ever would have worked out between them, whatever Dad might think. I mean, Mom would so never have fitted in back at the palace, given her enthusiasm for World's Scariest Police Car Chases (which I'm sure they don't have in Genovia) and her love of jalapeno nachos (ditto). She would have grown resentful and then made my dad's life a never-ending misery.
At least this way, he still gets to date Victoria's Secret underwear models.
So instead of saying anything like, 'Gee, Dad, sorry it didn't work out between you and Mom,' which would, of course, have been a lie, I just went, 'You think I should just go up to Michael and be like, “Hey, I like you?”
My dad shook his head in disgust. 'No, no, no,' he said. 'Of course you must be more subtle than that. Tell him by showing how you feel.'
'Oh,' I said. I may take after my father in every respect except my madis aptitude, but I had no idea what he was talking about. I kept seeing this picture in my head of me showing Michael how I felt about him by thrusting my tongue into his mouth in the hallway at school when I passed him between English and lunch - a kind of painful prospect, under the circumstances.
'We'd better get back in,' my father said. 'Or your grandmother will suspect us of plotting against her.'
So what else is new? Grandmere is always suspecting somebody of plotting against her. She thinks the launderers at the Plaza are plotting against her. She blames the soap they use on their linens for making all of Rommel's fur fall out.
Reminded of plots, I asked my dad, 'Do you think Sebastiano's plotting to kill me so he can ascend the throne himself?'
My dad made a strangled noise, but he managed not to burst out laughing. I guess that wouldn't have seemed very princely.
'No, Mia,' he said. 'I do not.'
But my dad, he really doesn't have much of an imagination. I have decided to stay on the alert about Sebastiano, just in case.
My mom just poked her head into my room to say that Kenny is on the phone for me.
I suppose he wants to ask me to the Non-Denominational Winter Dance. Really, it is about time.
Sunday; December 6, 11 p.m.
OK. I am in shock. Kenny so did NOT ask me to the Non-Denominational Winter Dance. Instead, this is how our conversation went:
Me:
Hello?
Kenny:
Hi, Mia. It's Kenny.
Me:
Oh, hi, Kenny. What's the matter?
Kenny sounded funny, which is why I asked.
Kenny:
Well, I just wanted to see if you were OK. I mean, if your tongue was OK.
Me:
It's a little better, I guess.
Kenny:
Because I was really worried. You know. I really, really didn't mean to pull you down like that.
Me:
Kenny, I know. It was just an accident.
This is when I started realizing I'd asked my dad the wrong question. I should have asked him what's the best way to break up with somebody, not what's the best way to let someone know you like them.
Anyway, to get back to what Kenny said:
Kenny:
Well, I just wanted to call and wish you a good night. And say that I hope you feel better. And also to let you know . . well, Mia, that I love you.
Me:
-------------
I didn't say anything right away, because I was completely FREAKED OUT!!!!
It wasn't exactly as if it happened out of the blue, because we are sort of going out, after all.
But still, what kind of guy calls a girl on the phone and says I
love you??? Except for weird psycho stalkers? And Kenny's
not a weird psycho stalker. He's just Kenny. So what's he doing calling me on the phone and telling me he loves me????
And then, brilliant me, here's what I do. Because he was still on the phone, waiting for an answer and all. So I go:
Me:
Um, OK.
Um, OK.
A boy says he loves me and this is how I respond: Um, OK. Oh, yeah, good thing my future career lies in the diplomatic
corps.
So then, poor Kenny, he's like waiting for some response other than Um, OK, as anybody would.
But 1 am perfectiy incapable of giving him one. Instead, I just go:
Me:
Well, see you tomorrow.
AND I HUNG UP!!!!!
Oh my God, I am the meanest, most ungrateful girl in the world. After Sebastiano kills me, I am going to burn in hell.
Seriously.
To Do Before Leaving for Genovia
1. Detailed list for Mom and Mr. G: how to care for Fat Louie while I am away.
2. Stock up on cat food, litter.
3. Christmas/Hanukkah presents! For:
Mom — electric breast pump? Check this.
Mr. G new drum sticks.
Dad - book on vegetarianism. He should eat better if he wants to keep his cancer in remission.
Lilly - what she always wants, blank videotapes for her show.
Lars - see if Prada makes a shoulder holster that would fit his Glock.
Kenny - gloves? Something NON-romantic.
Fat Louie - catnip ball.
Grandmere — what do you get for the woman who has everything, including an eighty-nine carat sapphire pendant given to
her by the Sultan of Brunei? Soap or a rope?
4. Break up with Kenny . . . only how can I? He LOVES me.
Only not enough to ask me to the Non-Denominational Winter Dance, I've noticed.
Monday, December 7, Homeroom
Lilly doesn't believe me about Kenny calling and saying he loves me. I told her in the car on the way to school this morning (thank God Michael had a dentist appointment and wasn't there. I would sooner die than discuss my love life in front of him.
It's bad enough having to discuss it in front of my bodyguard. If I had to discuss it in front of this person I've been worshipping for half my life, I think I'd probably go completely borderline personality disorder)
Anyway, so Lilly went, 'I categorically refuse to believe Kenny would do something like that.'
'Lilly,' I said. I had to keep my voice down so the driver wouldn't hear, up in the front seat. 'I am dead serious. He told me he loves me. I love you. That is what he said. It was completely random and weird.'
'He probably didn't say that. He probably said something else and you misunderstood him.'
'Oh, what? I glove you?'
'Well, of course not,' Lilly said. 'That doesn't even make any sense.'
'Well, then what? What could Kenny have said that sounded like I love you, but wasn't I love you?'
Lilly got mad then. She went, 'You know, you have been acting weird about Kenny for the past month. Since the two of you started going out, practically. I don't know what's wrong with you. All I ever heard before was “Why don't I have a boyfriend? How come everybody I know has a boyfriend but me? When am I going to get a boyfriend?” but now you've got one, you aren't the least bit appreciative of him.'
Even though what she was saying was true, I acted offended because I have been trying really hard not to let the fact that I
am not in love with Kenny show.
'That is so false,' I said. 'I completely appreciate Kenny.'
'Oh, yeah? I think the truth of the matter is, you, Mia, simply aren't ready to have a boyfriend.'
Boy did I see red after that remark.
'Me?
Not ready to have a boyfriend? Are you kidding? I've been waiting my whole life to have a boyfriend!'
'Well, if that's true' — Lilly was looking very superior — 'why won't you let him kiss you on the lips?'
'Where did you hear that?' I demanded.
'Kenny told Boris, of course, who told me.'
'Oh, great,' I said, trying to remain calm. 'So now our boyfriends are talking about us behind our backs. And you're
condoning this?'
'Of course not,' Lilly said. 'But I do find it intriguing, from a psychological point of view.'
This is the problem with being best friends with someone whose parents, are psychiatrists. Everything you do is interesting to them from a psychological point of view.
'Where I let anybody kiss me,' I exploded, 'is my business! Not yours, and not Boris's, either.'
'Well,' Lilly said. 'I'm just saying, if Kenny did say what you say he said - you know, the L word - then maybe he said it because he can't express the depths of his feelings any other way. You know. Other than verbally. Since you won't let him, physically.'
So I suppose that, technically, I should be thankful that Kenny chose merely to say the words 'I love you', rather than enacting them physically, which, God knows, might have actually have involved his tongue.
Oh, God, I don't even want to think about it any more.
Monday, December 7, Still Homeroom
They just passed out the Final Exam schedules. Here is mine:
FINAL EXAM SCHEDULE
December 14 - Reading Day
December 15 — Periods One and Two
For me, that means the Algebra and English finals will be on the same day. But that's OK. I'm doing pretty good in English. Well, except for that sentence diagramming thing. As if I'll ever need to do that in my future role as princess of the smallest nation in Europe.
Algebra, unfortunately, I am told I will probably need to know. DAMN!
December 16 - Periods Three and Four
World Civic. easy. I mean, Grandmere has told me enough stories about post-World War Two Europe for me to pass any test. I probably know more about it than the teacher. And PE? How can you give a Final in PE? We already had the Presidential Fitness Test (I passed everything but chin-ups).
December 17 - Periods Five, Six, and Seven
Gifted and Talented? No exam there. They don't give finals in classes that are basically study hall. That will be a snap. I have French seventh period. I do OK in oral, not so great in written. Fortunately Tina's in the same class. Maybe we can study together.
But I have Bio. sixth period. That won't be so easy. The only reason I'm not flunking Bio. is because of Kenny. He slips me most of the answers.
And if I break up with him, that will be the end of that.
December 18 - Non-Denominational Winter Carnival and Dance
The Winter Carnival should be fun. All the different school clubs and stuff are going to have booths, with traditional winter
fare, like hot cider. This will be followed in the evening by the dance I am supposed to go to with Kenny. If he ever asks me
to it, I mean.
Unless, of course, I do the right thing and break up with him.
In which case, I won't be able to go at all, because you can't go without a date.
I wish Sebastiano would just hurry up and kill me already.
Monday, December 7, Algebra
WHY???? WHY can't I ever remember my Algebra notebook?????
FIRST - Evaluate exponents
SECOND - Multiply and divide in order left to right
THIRD - Perform addition and subtraction in order left to right
EXAMPLE: 2x3-15/5=6-3=3
Oh, God. Lana Weinberger just tossed me a note.
What now? This can't be good. Lana's had it in for me for ever. Don't ask me why. I mean, I could kind of understand her resenting me for when Josh Richter asked me to the Cultural Diversity Dance instead of her. But he only asked me because
of the princess thing - and they got back together right after. Besides, Lana hated me long before that.
When I open the note, guess what it says:
I heard what happened to you at the skating rink this weekend. Guess the BF is going to have to wait a little longer
if he wants to see any tongue action, huh?
Oh my God. Does everyone in the entire school know that Kenny and I have not yet French kissed?
It is all Kenny's fault, of course.
What next? The cover of the Post?
I'm telling you, if our parents knew what actually goes on every day in the typical American high school, they would totally opt for home-schooling.
Monday, December 7, World Civ.
It is clear what I have to do.
I've always known it, of course, and if it hadn't been for, you know, the dance, I would have done it long before now.
But it is clear now that I cannot afford to wait until after the dance. I should have done it last night when he called, but you
can't really do something like that over the phone. Well, I mean, a girl like Lana Weinberger probably could, but not me.
No, I don't think I can put it off another day: I have got to break up with Kenny. I simply cannot continue living this lie.
Fortunately, I do have the support of at least one person in this plan: Tina Hakim Baba.
I didn't want to tell her. I didn't plan on telling anybody. But it all sort of slipped out today in the Girls' Room between third
and fourth periods while Tina was putting on her eye make-up. Her dad won't let her wear make-up, you see, so Tina has to wait until she gets to school to put it on. She has a deal with her bodyguard, Wahim (Tina has a bodyguard too, just like me, but not because she's a princess, it's because her dad is a rich oil sheik and he is paranoid someone is going to kidnap her and hold her for ransom). The deal is that Tina won't tell her parents how much Wahim flirts with Mademoiselle Klein, our French teacher, if Wahim doesn't tell Mr. and Mrs. Hakim Baba about Tina's Maybelline addiction.
Anyway, all of a sudden I just couldn't take it any more, and I ended up telling Tina what Kenny said last night on the phone—
And a lot more than that actually.
But first the part about Kenny's phone call.
Unlike Lilly, Tina believed me.
But Tina also had the totally wrong reaction. She thought it was great.
'Oh my God, Mia, you are so lucky,' she kept saying. 'I wish Dave would tell me he loves me! I mean, I know he is fully committed to our relationship, but his idea of romance is paying to have my fries super-sized at Mickey D's.'
This was so not the kind of support I was looking for.
'But, Tina,' I said. I felt Tina, with her extensive romance reading, would understand. 'The thing is, I don't love him.'
Tina widened her mascaraed eyes at me. 'You don't?'
'No,' I said, miserably. 'I mean, I really like him, as a friend. But I'm not in love or anything. Not with him.'
'Oh, God,' Tina said, reaching out and grabbing my wrist. 'There's someone else, isn't there?'
We only had a few minutes before the bell rang. We both had to get to class.
And yet, for some reason, I chose this moment to make my big confession. I don't know why. It's just that I can't stop thinking about what my dad said. You know, about showing the guy I like how I feel. Tina, I felt, was the only person I knew who would know how to help me do that.
So I went, 'Yes.'
Tina nearly spilled her cosmetic bag, she was so excited.
'I knew it!' she yelled. 'I knew there was a reason you wouldn't let him kiss you!'
My jaw dropped. 'You know about that too?'
'Well.' Tina shrugged. 'Kenny told Dave, who told me.'
Jeez! What's that Oprah's always complaining about -about how men aren't in touch with their emotions and don't share enough? It sounds to me like Kenny's been doing enough sharing recently to make up for several centuries worth of masculine reticence.
'So who is he?' Tina asked, all eagerly, as she packed up her eyelash curler and lip-liner. 'The guy you like?'
I went, 'It doesn't matter. Besides, the whole thing is completely futile. He sort of has a girlfriend, I think.'
Tina whipped her head around to look at me, making her thick black braid smack her in her own face, which is chubby, but
in a good way.
'It's Michael, isn't it?' she demanded, grabbing my arm again. She was holding on so tight, it hurt.
My instinctive reaction, of course, was to deny it. In fact, I even opened my mouth, all set to have the word 'no' come out of it.
But then I was like, Why? Why should I deny it to Tina? Tina wouldn't tell anyone. And she might be able to help me.
So instead of saying No, I took a deep breath and said, 'If you tell anyone, I'll kill you, understand? KILL YOU.'
Tina did a strange thing then. She let go of my arm and started jumping up and down in a circle.
'I knew it, I knew it, I knew it,' she said as she jumped. Then she stopped jumping and grabbed my arm again. 'Oh, Mia,
I always thought you two would make the cutest couple. I mean, I like Kenny and all, but he's, you know.' She wrinkled up