HARVARD UNIVERSITY

Dear Princess Amelia,

I am delighted to inform you that the Committee on Admissions and Financial Aid has voted to offer you a place at Harvard. Following an old Harvard tradition, a certificate of admission is enclosed. Please accept my personal congratulations for your outstanding achievements—

BROWN UNIVERSITY

Dear Princess Amelia,

Congratulations! The Brown Board of Admission has completed its evaluation of more than 19,000 applicants, and it is with great pleasure that I inform you that your application has been included among our acceptances. Your—

Daphne Delacroix

1005 Thompson Street, Apt. 4A

New York, NY 10003

Dear Ms. Delacroix,

Enclosed please find your novel,Ransom My Heart.Thank you for giving us the opportunity to read it. However, it does not suit our needs at the present time. Good luck placing it elsewhere.

Sincerely,

Ned Christiansen

Editorial Assistant

Brampft Books 520 Madison Avenue

New York, NY 10023

Dear Author,

Thank you for the submission of your book. Although it was carefully read, it is not what we are looking for here at Cambridge House. Best of luck in your future endeavors.

Sincerely,

Cambridge House Books

Dear Ms. Delacroix,

Thank you so much for your submission,Ransom My Heart . We here at AuthorPress were highly impressed by it, and we think it shows a lot of promise! However, it’s important to keep in mind that publishing houses receive well over 20,000 submissions a year, and in order to stand out, your manuscript needs to be PERFECT. For a nominal fee ($5 per page), your manuscript,Ransom My Heart , could be on store shelves by next Christmas—

 

The Senior Class of

Albert Einstein High School

requests the pleasure of your company at

the senior prom

on Saturday the Sixth of May at seven o’clock in the evening at the

Waldorf-Astoria ballroom

 

Thursday, April 27, Gifted and Talented

Mia—We’re going shopping for prom dresses—and for something to wear to your birthday shindig—after school. Bendel’s and Barneys first, then if we strike out there, we’ll hit Jeffrey and Stella McCartney downtown. You in?—Lana

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device

L—I’m sorry. I can’t. Have fun, though!—M

What do you mean, you can’t ? What else do you have to do? Don’t say princess lessons because I know your grandmother has canceled them while she gets ready for your big pahtay, and don’t say therapy either because you only have that on Fridays. So what gives? Don’t be such a byotch, we need your limo. I blew all my taxi money for the month on a new pair of D&G patent leather platform slingbacks.

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device

Wow. Coming clean about Dr. Knutz to my friends was freeing and all of that, just like he said it would be.

Especially since it turns out most of them have been in therapy, too.

But some of them—such as Lana—tend to treat the subject way too casually sometimes.

I’m staying after school to help J.P. with his senior project. You know he’s putting on his final performance piece for the senior project committee next week. I promised I’d be there for him. He’s worried about some of the performances his actors are giving. He thinks Amber Cheeseman’s little sister, Stacey, doesn’t really seem to be giving it her all. And she’s the star, you know.

OMG, that play he wrote? God, what are you two, attached at the hip? You can spend ten minutes apart, you know. Now come shopping with us. Pinkberry after! My treat!

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device

Lana thinks Pinkberry solves everything. Or, if not Pinkberry,Allure magazine. When Benazir Bhutto got assassinated, and I couldn’t stop crying, Lana got me a copy ofAllure magazine and told me to get in the bathtub and read it cover to cover. Lana was seriously all, “You’ll feel better in no time!”

And I’m pretty sure she really meant it.

The weird thing was, after I did what she said, I sort ofdid feel a little better.

I also knew a lot more about the dangers of SmartLipo. Still.

Lana. It’s an artistic thing. J.P.’s the writer/director. I have to be there to support him. I’m the girlfriend. Just go without me.

God, what iswith you? It’s PROM. Fine, be that way. I’ll forgive you, but only because I know you’re freaking out over this election thing of your dad’s. Oh, and where you’re going to go to school next year. God, I can’t believe you didn’t get inanywhere . I mean, evenI got into Penn. Andmy senior project was on the history of eyeliner. Good thing my dad’s a legacy, I guess.

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device

Ha, yeah, well, it’s true! I got the lowest math SAT score you can get. Who’d want me? Thank God L’Université de Genoviahas to accept me, on account of my family being its founder and major benefactor, and all.

You’re so lucky! A college with beaches! Can I come over for spring break? I promise to bring plenty of Penn hotties…Oops, gotta go, Fleener is breathing down my neck. What is UP with these pinheads? Don’t they realize we only have two weeks left at this place? Like our grades even MATTER anymore!

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device

Ha, I know! Pinheads! Yeah! Tell me about it!

 

Thursday, April 27, French

Okay, it’s been four years since I started going to this place. And it still feels like all I ever do is lie.

And I don’t just mean to Lana or my parents, either. Now I’m lying toeveryone.

You would really think, after all this time, I’d be getting better about that.

But I found out the hard way—a little less than two years ago now, actually—what happens when you tell the truth.

And even though I still think I did the right thing—I mean, it did bring democracy to a country that has never known it before, and all—I’m not making that mistake again. I hurt so many people—especially people who I really care about—because I told the truth, I really think it’s better now just…well, to lie.

Not big lies. Just little white lies, which don’t hurt anybody. It’s not like I’m lying for personal gain.

But what am I going to do,admit I got into every college I applied to?

Oh, yeah, that would go over really well. How would all the people whodidn’t get into their first-choice colleges—especially those of them who deserved to…and that would be approximately eighty percent of the current AEHS graduating senior class—feel then?

Besides, you know what they’d say.

Sure,nice people—like Tina—would say that I’m lucky.

Like luck had anything to do with it! Unless you count the “luck” where my mom ran into my dad at that off-campus party where they met, instantly hated each other, which of course led inevitably to sexual tension and then tol’amour , and one broken condom later, to me.

And—despite Principal Gupta’s insistence—I’m not convinced hard work had very much to do with me getting in everywhere, either.

Okay…I did do really well in the writing and critical reading sections of my SATs. And my college app essays were good, too. (I’m not going to lie aboutthat , at least not in my own journal. I worked my butt off on those.)

I’ll admit, when your extracurriculars are,Single-handedly brought democracy to a country that otherwise had never known it before , andWrote a four-hundred-page novel for my senior project , it does look slightly impressive.

But I can be truthful tomyself : All those colleges I applied to? They only let me in because I’m a princess.

And it’s not that I’m not grateful. I know every single one of those schools will give me a wonderful, unique educational opportunity.

It’s just…it would have been nice for justone of those places to have accepted me for…well, forme , and not the tiara. If only I could have applied under my pen name—Daphne Delacroix—to know for sure.

Whatever. I’ve got bigger things to worry about right now.

Well, not bigger than where I’m going to spend the next four—or more, if I goof off and don’t declare a major right away like Mom did—years of my life.

But there’s the whole thing with Dad. What if he doesn’t win the election? The election that wouldn’t even be happening if it weren’t for me telling the truth.

And Grandmère is so upset about the fact that René, of all people, is running against Dad—plus all the rumors that have been going around ever since I made Princess Amelie’s declaration public, like that our family was purposefully hiding Amelie’s declaration all along, so that the Renaldos could stay in power—that Dad has had to banish her to Manhattan and have her plan this stupid birthday party for me just to distract her so she’ll quit driving him insane with her constant barrage of, “But does this mean we’ll have to move out of the palace?”

She—like the readers ofteenSTYLE —can’t seem to understand that the Genovian palace—and royal family—are protected under Amelie’s declaration (and besides which are a major source of tourist income, just like the British royal family). I keep explaining to her, “Grandmère, no matter what happens in the election, Dad isalways going to be HRH Prince of Genovia, you’realways going to be HRH Dowager Princess, and I’malways going to be HRH Princess of Genovia. I’m still going to have to open new wings of the hospital, I’m still going to have to wear this stupid tiara and attend state funerals and diplomatic dinners…I’m just not going to make legislation. That will be the prime minister’s job. Dad’s job, hopefully. Got it?”

Only she never does.

I guess it’s the least I can do for Dad after what I did. Dealing with her, I mean. I figured, when I spilled the beans about this whole Genovia-is-really-a-democracy thing, he’d run for prime minister unopposed. I mean, with our apathetic population, who else would be interested in running?

I never dreamed the Contessa Trevanni would put up the money for her son-in-law to campaign against him.

I should have known. It’s not like René has ever had an actual job. And now that he and Bella have a baby, he’s got to dosomething , I suppose, besides change the Luvs disposables.