Read Princess in Waiting Online
Authors: Meg Cabot
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Themes, #Adolescence, #Family, #Multigenerational, #Royalty, #Social Issues
Temptation Island
over it, but it turned out he didn't.
The girl who played me was way prettier than I am in real life. My mom says that's not true, but I know it
is.
I guess I can see why Lilly is so mad, though. I mean, her character wasn't exactly supportive of mine for
a good
two-thirds of the movie.
The guy who played Michael was a total babe. In the movie, he and I end up together.
Too bad in real life he is going to dump me tomorrow ... even though Tina doesn't think so.
This is very nice of her, and everything, but the fact is, he is totally going to. I mean, it really is a matter of
pride. If a girl
with whom you have been going out for a full thirty-four days cancels your very first date, you really have
no choice but to break up with her. I mean, I totally understand.I would break up with me. It is clear now
that royal teens can't be like
normal ones. I mean, for people like me and Prince William, duty will always have to come first. Who is
going to be able to understand that, let alone put up with it?
Tina says Michael can, and will. Tina says Michael won't break up with me because he loves me. I said
yes he will,
because he only loves me as a friend.
'Clearly Michael loves you as more than just a friend,' Tina keeps saying into the phone. 'I mean, you
guys kissed!'
'Yes,' I say. 'But Kenny and I kissed, and I did not like him as more than just a friend.'
'This is a completely different situation,' Tina says.'Because you and Michael are meant to be together!'
Tina sounds exasperated. 'Your star chart says so! You and Kenny were never meant for one another,
he is a Cancer.'
Tina's astrological predictions notwithstanding, there is no evidence that Michael feels more strongly for
me than he does
for, say, Judith Gershner. Yes, he wrote me that poem that mentioned the L word. But that was an entire
month ago, during which period I was in another country. He has not renewed any such protestations
since my return. I think it highly likely that tomorrow will be the straw that breaks the hot guy's back. I
mean, why would Michael waste his time on a girl like me, who can't even stand up to her own
grandmother? I'm sure if Michael's grandmother had been all, 'Michael, you've got to go to bingo with me
Friday night, because Olga Krakowski, my childhood rival, will be there, and I want to show you off,'
he'd
have been all, 'Sorry, Gran, no can do.'
No, I'm the spineless one. I'm the one completely lacking in backbone.
And I'm die one who now must suffer for it.
I wonder if it is too late in the school year to transfer. Because I really don't think I can take going to the
same school as Michael after we are broken up. Seeing him in the hallway between classes, at lunch, and
in G and T, knowing he was once mine but that I'd lost him, might just kill me.
But is there another school in Manhattan that might take a talentless, backbone-lacking reject like myself?
Doubtful.
For Michael
Oh, Michael, my one true love
We had all new pleasures yet to prove
But I lost you due to my own retardation
before our love had yet found frutation
And now through the years, for you I will pine
and mourn for the days when you were once mine.
Friday, January 22,
Homeroom
Well. That's it. It's over. He dumped me.
All right, not in so many words. But I could see it in his face.
He tried to be nice about it. I mean, he didn't come right out and say, 'Get back, Jack.'
But I could see it in his eyes.
'No, really, Mia,' was what he said. 'I understand. You're a princess. Duty comes first.'
That is what he said. What he meant was:
'Hmmm, I wonder if Judith Gershner has broken up with that guy from Trinity yet? Maybe she's
available, since this loser
Mia sure isn't.'
I told him that I would try to get out of the ball early if I could. He said that if I did, I should stop by. The
Moscovitzes' apartment, I mean.
I know what this means, of course:
That he is going to dump me there.
Because he can't dump me in my own limo, in front of my bodyguard and driver. I mean, for all Michael
knows, Lars might
be trained to beat up boys who try to dump me in front of him. Surely Michael, having a normal sense of
self-preservation,
will choose to break off our relationship in the privacy of his own home, where he will be safe from
rubber bullets and ninja throwing stars.
I cannot blame him. I would do the same thing.
Now I know how Jane Eyre must have felt when she discovered, on her wedding day, that Mr
Rochester had a wife yet
living. No, Michael doesn't have a wife that I know of. But my relationship with him, like Jane's with Mr
Rochester, has
come to an end. And I can think of no earthly way it can ever be repaired. I mean, it's possible that
tonight, when I go by
the Moscovitzes' place, it wall be in flames, and I will be able to prove myself worthy of Michael's love
by selflessly saving
his mother, or perhaps his dog, Pavlov, from the fire.
But other than that, I don't see us getting back together. I will, of course, give him his birthday present,
because I went to
all the trouble of stealing it.
But I know it won't do any good. It's over. Like my life.
They just announced the name of the newest member of the Albert Einstein High junior varsity
cheerleading squad. It is Shameeka Taylor.
Who even cares?
Friday, January 22,
Algebra
Michael did not stop by here between classes. It is the first day all week that he hasn't slipped in to say hi
on his way to
Senior English, three classrooms away from this one.
It is obvious why. I mean, we are broken up. He hates me now. I don't blame him. I hate myself.
To make matters worse — as if I can even care about something so trivial - Lana just turned around to
hiss, 'Don't think
just because your little friend made the squad that anything is going to change between us, Mia. She's as
much of a pathetic geekette as you are. They only let her on the squad to fulfil our freak quota.'
Then she whipped her head around again — but not as fast as she should have. Because a lot of her hair
was still draped across my desk.
And when I slammed my Algebra I—II text closed as hard as I could - which is what I did next - a lot of
her silky, awa-puhi-scented locks got trapped between page 212 and 213.
Lana shrieked in pain. Mr G, up at the chalkboard, turned around, saw where the screaming was coming
from, and sighed.
'Mia,' he said, tiredly, 'Lana. What now?'
Lana stabbed an index finger in my direction. 'She slammed her book on my hair!'
I shrugged innocently. 'I didn't know her hair was in my book. Why can't she keep her hair to herself,
anyway?'
Mr. Gianini looked bored. 'Lana,' he said, 'if you can't keep your hair under control, I recommend
braids. Mia, don't
slam your book. It should be open to page two-twelve, where I want you to read from Section Two.
Out loud.'
I read out loud from Section Two, but not without a certain primness. For once, vengeance on Lana had
been mine, and
I had NOT been sent to the principal's office. Oh, it was sweet. Sweet, sweet vindication.
Although I don't even know why I have to learn this stuff; it isn't as if the Palais de Genovia isn't full of
dweeby staffers
who are just dying to multiply fractions for me.
Polynomials
term: variable(s) multiplied by a coefficient
monomial: Polynomial w/ one term
binomial: Polynomial w/ two terms
trinomial: Polynomial w/ three terms
Degree of polynomial = the degree of the term with the highest degree
In my delight over the pain I had brought upon my enemy, I almost forgot about the fact that my heart is
broken.
Must keep in mind that Michael is dumping me after the black-and-white ball tonight. Why can't I
FOCUS????
Must be love. I am sick with it.
Fiday, January 22,
Health and Safety
Why do you look like you just ate ANOTHER sock?
I don't. How was your breakfast meeting? You do, too. The meeting went GREAT.
Really? Did they agree to print a full-page letter of apology in the
Times?
No, better. Did something happen between you and my brother? Because I saw
him looking all furtive in the hallway just now.
FURTIVE? Furtive like how? Like he was looking for Judith Gershner to ask her
out tonight????
No, more like he was looking for a pay phone. Why would he ask out Judith
Gershner? How many times
do I have to tell you, he likes you, not J.G.
He used to like me, you mean. Before I was forced to cancel our date tonight due
to Grandmere forcing me to
go to a ball.
A ball? Really. Ugh. But excuse me. Michael isn't going to ask some other girl to
go out with him tonight
just because you can't make it. I mean, he was really looking forward to going
with you. Not just for concupiscent reasons, either.
REALLY????
Yes, you loser. What did you think? I mean, you guys are going out.
But that's just it We haven't gone outyet I mean.
So? You'll go out sometime when you don't hove a ball to go to instead.
You don't think he's going to dump me?
Uh, not unless something heavy fell on his head between now and the last time I saw him. Guys
with
cranial damage can't generally be held responsible for their actions.
Why would something heavy fall on his head? I'm being facetious. Do you want to hear about my
meeting, or not?
Yes. What happened? They told me they want to option my show.
What does that mean?
It means that they will take
Lilly Tells It Like It Is
around to the networks to see if anybody wants to
buy it.
To be a real show. On a real channel. Not like public access. Like ABC or Lifetime or VH1 or
something.
Lilly! THAT IS SO GREAT!!!! Yes, I know. Oops, gotta go, Wheeton's looking this way.
Note to self: Look up words
concupiscent and facetious.
Friday, January 22,
Gifted and Talented
Lunch was just one big celebration today. Everyone had something to be happy about:
• Shameeka, for making the cheerleading squad and striking a blow for tall geeky girls everywhere (even
though, of course, Shameeka looks like a supermodel and can wrap both her ankles around her head,
but, whatever).
• Lilly, for getting her TV show optioned.
• Tina, for finally deciding to give up on Dave, but not on romance in general, and get on with her life.
• Ling Su for getting her drawing of Joe, the stone lion, into the school art fair.
• And Boris for just, well, being Boris. Boris is always happy.
You will notice that I did not mention Michael. That isbecause I do not know what Michael's mental state
at lunch was, whether or not he was happy or sad or concupiscent or whatever. That is because Michael
didn't show up to lunch. He
said, when he breezed by my locker just before fourth period, 'Hey, I've got some things to do, I'll see
you in G and T, OK?'
Some things to do.
Like, for instance, find another girl to take to the movie tonight.
I should, of course, just ask him. I should just be like,
Look, are we broken up, or what?
Because I
would really like to know, one way or the other, so I can begin planning either my wedding or my funeral.
Well, not really, because, of course, I don't live in Utah, and I would never kill myself over a boy, even
Michael. But you
know what I mean.
Except that I can't just go up and ask Michael what the deal is between us, because right now he is busy
with Boris, going
over band stuff. Michael's band is comprised (so far) ofMichael (bass); Boris (electric violin); that tall guy
Paul from the Computer Club (keyboards); this guy from the AEHS marching band called Trevor
(guitar); and Felix, this scary-looking twelfth-grader with a goatee that's bushier than Mr Gianini's
(drums). They still don't have a name for the band, or a place to practise. But they seem to think that Mr
Kreblutz, the chief custodian, will let them into the band practice rooms on weekends
if they can get him tickets to the Westminster Kennel Show next month. Mr Kreblutz is a huge bichon
frise fan.
The fact that Michael can concentrate on all this band stuff while our relationship is falling apart is just
further proof that he is
a true musician, completely dedicated to his art. I, being the talentless freak that I am, can, of course,
think of nothing
but
my heartbreak. Michael's ability to remain focused in spite of any personal pain he
might be suffering is evidence of his genius.
Either that or he never cared that much about me in the first place.