Forever Princess (29 page)

Sunday, May 7, 2:30 p.m., Sheep Meadow, Central Park

Oh my God, Kenny—I mean, Kenneth—is giving the most boring valedictorian speech I have ever heard. All valedictorian speeches are boring (at least, the ones I've heard).

But this one takes the cake. Seriously, it's about dust particles, or something. Or maybe not dust particles. But some kind of particles. Who even cares? It's so hot up on these bleachers.

And no one is paying the slightest bit of attention to him. Lana is actually sleeping. Even Lilly, the valedictorian's own girlfriend, is texting someone.

I just want to get out of here so I can go have cake. Hello? Is that so wrong?

Yeah. I guess it is.

Ack—someone is texting me….

Mia, what is going on? I've been texting you all morning. Is everything all right? I saw J.P. last night with STACEY CHEESEMAN! They went up the elevators together. Where were U????

Oh, hey, T! It's all good! J.P. and I broke up. But it was 100% mutual. I actually went over to Michael's last night.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That's what I said!!!!!!!!!!!!

OMG that is so romantic!!!! I'm so happy for you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know! Me too. I love him so much!!!! And he loves me!!!!!!!!!!! And everything is perfect. Except I wish this stupid speech would be over so we could all go eat cake.

Yeah, me too. The only thing is, this morning on my way here I could have sworn I saw Stacey Cheeseman making out with
Andrew Lowenstein
at a Starbucks downtown. But no way right, 'cause she's with J.P. now. Right?

Um. Right!

Oh, another text—

Hey, POG. I saw you leave the hotel last night with my brother.

It's Lilly!!!!

Is that a problem? He said you sent him!!!!

It's cool. But you better not break his heart again. Or this time I really WILL break your face.

Nobody's heart is going to get broken this time around, Lilly. We're all grown up now.

Ha. Not likely. But…I'm glad you're back, POG.

Awwww…

Glad to
be
back, Lilly.

Uh-oh…here's the message from J.P.

Mia. Just wanted to say again how sorry I am about…well, everything. Even though the word “sorry” seems so inadequate. I hope you meant it when you said we could be friends. Because nothing would mean more to me. And thanks, too, for suggesting I call Stacey. You were right—she really is a wonderful person. And you don't have to worry about the play. Sean's company called this morning and it looks like there's a problem with the option. Something to do with some lawyers. So I guess he won't be producing it after all. But don't worry, I'll be all right. I have another idea for a play, a really great one about a playwright who is in love with an actress, only she—well, it's complicated—I'd love to talk to you about it if you get a chance, you know how valuable I find your editorial input. Call me. J.P.

Really. You just have to laugh. Because what else can you do?

OMG, why won't this guy shut up? I'm totally getting a sunburn sitting out here. If I get freckles, I'm suing this stupid school. Wait a minute…Geek, where did you
disappear to last night? You look like you had SEX! Don't try to deny it! OMG, the geek had SEX! HA HA HA! Isn't it FUN, geek?????

—————————————

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device

Sunday, May 7, 4 p.m., Tavern on the Green, table twelve

Everyone is making speeches and taking pictures and carrying on about how this is a day we'll never forget.

It's certainly a day Lana's never going to forget…that's because Mrs. Weinberger (at my urging, though I'll never tell Lana, of course) presented Lana with the thing her heart most desired as a graduation present:

That's right, the Weinbergers tracked down Bubbles, Lana's pony that they gave away so many years ago, and gave it back to her. Bubbles was waiting for Lana in the Tavern on the Green parking lot when we all walked up here for our post-graduation reception.

I don't think I've ever heard anyone scream so joyously.

Or so loudly.

It's a day Kenneth's not going to forget, either. That's because his parents just handed him an envelope containing a letter from Columbia. He's been taken off the waiting list.

So, it looks like he and Lilly won't be separated by a state anymore. They'll only be separated by a dorm—if that. There was a lot of joyous hugging and screaming over by that table, too.

At first I was kind of afraid to go over to where the Moscovitzes were sitting, even though Michael was totally hanging out with my parents. But I was shy about how the Drs. Moscovitz were going to feel about me. It was true I'd already seen them at the reception at Columbia, but that seemed so long ago, and, I don't know, things seemed
different now, on account of what had gone on last night (and this morning, too)!

But, of course, they didn't know about that. And Michael had been brave in coming over to my house (not to mention, hanging out with Dad and Grandmère now). So the least I could do was return the favor.

So I did.

And, of course, it turned out fine. The Drs. Moscovitz—not to mention Nana—were totally delighted to see me. Because I'd made their son happy. And so that made them happy.

What was scary was when J.P. came over to our table with his parents to say hello. Now THAT was awkward.

“Well, Prince Phillipe,” Mr. Reynolds-Abernathy said, all sadly, shaking my dad's hand. “Looks like our kids won't be going to Hollywood together after all.”

But, of course, my dad had NO idea what he was talking about, because he'd never been let in on that plan (thank God) in the first place.

“Excuse me?” Dad said, looking totally confused.

“Hollywood?” Grandmère cried, looking appalled.

“Right,” I said quickly. “But that was before I decided on Sarah Lawrence.”

Grandmère sucked in so much air, it was a wonder there was any left for the rest of us to breathe.

“Sarah Lawrence?” she cried, in joyous wonder.

“Sarah Lawrence?” Dad echoed. It was one of the schools he'd thrown out, way back in ninth grade, as one of his top choices for me. But in a million years, I'm pretty sure he never thought I'd actually take him up on it.

But, as it happens, like Michael said, Sarah Lawrence is one of the colleges that don't count SAT scores toward its entrance requirements. And it's got a strong writing program. And it's really close to New York City. Just in case I have to pop back into Manhattan to visit Fat Louie or Rocky.

Or smell my boyfriend's neck.

“That's a great choice, Mia,” Mom said, looking super happy. Of course, she's been looking super happy ever since she noticed the diamond ring on my left hand was gone, and I'd come home from the prom with Michael, and not J.P.

But I think she really is happy about Sarah Lawrence, too.

“Thanks,” I said.

But no one was happier than Grandmère.

“Sarah Lawrence,” Grandmère kept murmuring. “
I
was to go to Sarah Lawrence. If I hadn't married Amelia's grandfather. We've got to start planning how we'll decorate her room. I think buttercup yellow walls.
I
was to have buttercup yellow walls…”

“Okay, then,” Michael said to me, eyeing Grandmère as she waxed on about buttercup yellow walls. “Wanna dance?”

“Do I ever,” I said, relieved to have an excuse to leave the table.

Which is how we ended up on the dance floor with my mom and Mr. G, dancing with Rocky and having a blast together, as usual; Lilly and Kenneth, doing some kind of new wave dance they seem to have invented themselves, even though the music was sort of slow; Tina and Boris, just
holding each other, and gazing into each other's eyes, the height of romance, as one would expect, since it was Tina and…well, Boris; and…my dad and Ms. Martinez.

“No,” I said, coming to a standstill when I saw this. “Just…no.”

“What?” Michael looked around. “What's the matter?”

I should have expected it. I mean, they'd been dancing together at my birthday party, but I thought that had been a one-time thing.

It was at that point that my dad said something to Ms. Martinez and she slapped him across the face, then stalked off the dance floor.

I don't think anyone could have been more stunned than my dad…except maybe my mom, who started laughing.

“Dad!” I exclaimed, horrified. “What did you
say
to her?”

My dad came over, rubbing the side of his face but looking more intrigued than actually hurt.

“Nothing,” he said. “I didn't say anything to her. Well, nothing more than I usually say when I dance with a beautiful woman. It was a compliment, actually.”

“Dad,”
I said. When would he ever learn? “She isn't a lingerie model. She's my
former English teacher
.”

“She's intoxicating,” Dad said thoughtfully, gazing after her.

“Oh my God.” I groaned, and buried my face in Michael's neck. I could see clearly what was going on. It was all too obvious. Not again! “Tell me this is not happening.”

“Oh, it's happening,” Michael said. “He's following her, calling after her…Did you know her first name was Karen?”

“I think I'm about to become more than well acquainted with that fact,” I said, still keeping my face in his neck and inhaling deeply.

“Yeah, now he's heading across the parking lot after her…She's trying to hail a taxi to get away but…oh, he's stopped her. They're talking. Oh, wait. She's taking his hand…So, are you going to call her Ms. Martinez after they get married like you do Mr. Gianini, or do you think you'll ever be able to call her Karen?”

“Seriously. What is wrong with my family?” I asked, with a groan.

“The same thing that's wrong with everybody's family,” Michael said. “It's made up of human beings. Hey, quit sniffing me a minute and lift your head up.”

I lifted my head and looked at him. “Why?” I asked.

“So I can do this,” he said. And kissed me.

And as we were kissing, and the late-afternoon sun was pouring in all around us, and the other couples were swirling around us on the dance floor, laughing, I realized something. Something I think might be really important:

This princess thing, which four years ago I was convinced was going to be the ruination of my life, had turned out to be just the opposite. It's actually taught me things, some of them very important. Like how to stand up for myself, and be my own person. How to get what I want out of life, on my own terms. And never to sit by my grandmother while crab is being served, since it's her
favorite dish, and she simply can't eat it and talk at the same time, and half of it will end up all over whoever she's sitting next to.

It's taught me something else, too.

And that's that as you get older, you lose things, things you don't necessarily want to lose. Some things as simple as…well, your baby teeth when you're a little kid, as they make way for your adult teeth.

But as you age, you lose other, even more important things, like friends—hopefully only bad friends, who maybe weren't as good for you as you once thought. With luck, you'll be able to hang on to your true friends, the ones who were always there for you…even when you thought they weren't.

Because friends like that are more precious than all the tiaras in the world.

I've also learned that there are the things you
want
to lose…like that hat you throw into the air on graduation day. I mean, why would you want to hold on to it? High school sucks. People who say those were the best four years of your life—those people are liars…. Who wants the best years of their lives to be in
high school
? High school is something
everybody
should be ready to lose.

And then there are the things you thought you wanted to lose, but didn't…and now you're glad you didn't.

A good example of this would be Grandmère. She drove me crazy for four years (and not just because of the crab thing). Four years of princess lessons, and nagging, and insanity. I swear, there were moments during some of those
years when I gladly would have beat in her face with a shovel.

But in the end, I'm glad I didn't. She taught me a lot, and I don't just mean how to use appropriate flatware. In a way, she's the one—well, with Mom and Dad's help, of course…not to mention Lilly, and all my friends, really—who taught me how to appreciate this royalty thing—another thing I wanted desperately to lose, but didn't….

And, yes, in the end…I'm glad.

I mean, yeah, it sucks sometimes, being a princess.

But I know now there are ways I can work it so I can help people, and maybe, in the end, even make the world a better place. Not in huge ways, necessarily. Sure, I'm not going to invent a robotic surgical arm that's going to save people's lives.

But I've written a book that might, like Michael said, make someone whose loved one is being operated on by that arm forget about how scared she is while she's in the waiting room.

Oh, and I brought democracy to a country that's never known it.

And okay, these are small things. But one baby step at a time.

Still, the most important reason I'm glad I turned out to be a princess, and that I'm going to stay one forever?

If I hadn't, I highly doubt I'd have gotten this majorly happy ending.