“Oh, J.P.!” I cried, cutting Michael off. “Thanks! I’m so thirsty!”

I snatched the water out of his hand and gulped it down. J.P. was standing there, just staring at Michael, looking a little perplexed.

“Mike,” J.P. said. He still seemed dazed from his conversation with his artistic hero. “Hey. So. You’re back.”

“Michael’s been back for a while,” Boris said. “His robotic surgical arm is a huge financial success. I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it. Hospitals everywhere are vying for them, but they cost over a million dollars each and there’s a waiting list—ow.”

Tina elbowed him again. This time I think she must have nearly broken one of Boris’s ribs, because he almost doubled over.

“Wow,” J.P. said, with a smile. He didn’t look at all disturbed by Boris’s news. In fact, he had his hands in the pockets of his tuxedo pants, like he was James Bond, or someone. He’d probably gotten Sean Penn’s phone number and was fondling it. “That’s great.”

“J.P. wrote a play,” Tina squeaked. Apparently because she was unable to stand the tension and was trying to change the subject.

Everyone just looked at her. I thought Lilly was going to bust a piercing, her eyebrows were so furrowed as she tried to hold in what was apparently a huge horse laugh.

“Wow,” Michael said. “That’s great.”

I honestly didn’t know if he was being serious or if he was making fun of J.P., basically repeating the same thing he’d just said, or what. All I knew was, I had to get the heck out of there, or the tension was going to kill me. And who wants to stroke out on their eighteenth birthday?

“Well,” I said, handing Tina my plate. “Princess duty calls. I have to go mingle. See you guys later—”

But before I could get even one step away, J.P. grabbed hold of one of my hands and pulled me back and said, “Actually, Mia, if it’s all right with you, I have sort of an announcement I’d like to make, and I can’t think of a better time than right now. Will you go with me up to the microphone? Madonna’s about to take a break.”

Thatwas when I started feeling sick to my stomach. Because what sort of announcement could J.P. be going to make? In front of the Clintons? And Madonna and her band? And my dad?

Oh, and Michael.

But before I could say anything, J.P. started gently tugging—okay, dragging—me up to the stage they’d set up over the yacht’s built-in pool.

And the next thing I knew, Madonna was moving graciously out of the way and J.P. had hold of the microphone and was asking for everyone’s attention—and getting it. Three hundred faces were turning our way as my heart thumped inside my chest.

It’s true I’ve given speeches in front of way more people than that. But that was different. ThenI’d been the one in charge of the microphone. This time, someone else was.

And I had no idea what he was about to say.

But I had sort of an idea.

And I wanted to die.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” J.P. began, his deep voice booming out across the ship’s deck…and, for all I knew, the entire South Street Seaport. The paparazzi, down below, could probably hear him. “I’m so proud to be here tonight to celebrate this special occasion with such an extraordinary young woman…a young woman who means so much to all of us…to her country, to her friends, to her family…But the truth is, Princess Mia means more to me, perhaps, than she does to any of you—”

Oh, God. No. Nothere . Notnow ! I mean, it was totally sweet of J.P. to be expressing how much he cared about me in this way, in front of everyone—God knew Michael had never had the guts to do such a thing.

But then, I don’t think Michael had ever felt that he’d needed to.

“…And that’s why I want to take the opportunity to show her just how much she means to me by asking her here, in front of all her friends and loved ones—”

It was when I saw him reach a hand into one of the pockets of his tuxedo pants that Ireally started to think that I might need actual CPR in a minute.

And sure enough, from his pocket J.P. pulled a black velvet box…a much smaller one than Princess Amelie’s tiara had fit in.

The one J.P. was holding was ring-sized.

As soon as everyone in the crowd saw the box—and then J.P. sink down to one knee—they went totally bananas. People started cheering and clapping so loudly, I could hardly hear what J.P. said next…and I was standing right next to him. I’m sure no one else heard him, even though he was speaking into a microphone.

“Mia,” J.P. went on, looking up into my eyes with a confident smile on his face, as he opened the box to reveal an extremely large pear-shaped diamond on a platinum band, “will you…”

The screaming and cheering from the crowd got even louder. Everything went all swoopy in front of my eyes. The Manhattan skyline before us, the party lights on the boat, the faces before us, J.P.’s face below me.

I really did think for a second that I was going to pass out. Tina was right: I should have eaten more.

But one thing my vision was still steady enough to take in with perfect clarity:

And that was Michael Moscovitz. Leaving.

Yes, leaving the party. The boat. Whatever. The point was, he was exiting. One minute, I saw his face, perfectly expressionless, but there, down below me.

And the next, I was looking at the back of his head. I saw his broad shoulders, and then his back as he made his way toward the gangplank.

He was going.

Without even waiting to see what I’d say in response to J.P.’s question.

Or even what, exactly, that question was. Which, it turned out, wasn’t at all what everyone seemed to think it was.

“…go to the prom with me?” J.P. finished, his smile still wide and full of trust in me.

But I could barely drag my gaze to look in his direction. Because I couldn’t stop staring after Michael.

It’s just that…I don’t know. Looking out into the crowd like that, after my vision had gone all kind of wonky from surprise, and seeing Michael turn his back and just walk away, like he couldn’t have cared less what happened….

It was like something went cold inside me. Something I didn’t even realize was stillliving inside me.

Which, it turned out, was this little tiny ember of hope.

Hope that maybe, somehow, someday Michael and I might get back together.

I know! I’m a fool. An idiot! After all this time, why would I keep on hoping? Especially when I have such a fantastic boyfriend, who, by the way, was still kneeling in front of me, holding a RING! (Which excuse me, but what’s up with that? Who gives a girl a RING as he’s asking her to theprom ? Well, except for Boris. But excuse me, he’sBORIS .)

But obviously I was the only one harboring that little sliver of hope. Michael didn’t even care enough to stay and watch what I said in response to my longtime boyfriend’s proposal of prom-promise. (I guess that’s what it was. Wasn’t it?)

So. That was that.

It’s kind of funny, because I thought Michael broke my heart a long time ago. But he just sort of broke it all over again by walking out like that.

It’s amazing how boys can do that.

Fortunately, even though I couldn’t see very well because of the tears that filled up my eyes by Michael leaving like that, and my heart had just been smashed to pieces (again), I could still think clearly. Sort of.

The only thing I could think to do was give J.P. the speech that Grandmère had made me rehearse nine million times for just such an occasion—though I’d never actually believed such an occasion would ever arise:

“Oh,insert name of proposer here , I’m just so overwhelmed by the intensity of your emotions, I hardly know what to say. You’ve truly swept me off my feet, and I do believe my head is swimming—”

No lie, in this case.

“I’m so young and inexperienced, you see, and you’re such a man of the world…I just wasn’t expecting this.”

Absolutely no lie, again in this case. Who proposes in high school—even if it is just a promise ring, or whatever? Oh, wait, that’s right. Boris.

Hold on, where’s my dad? Oh, there he is. Oh, my God, I’ve never seen his face that color. I think his head is literally going to explode, he looks so mad. He must think, like everyone else, that J.P. just proposed. He didn’t hear that all J.P. did was ask me to the prom. He saw the ring, saw J.P. kneel, and just assumed…oh, this is awful! Why did J.P. have to get me aring ? Is that whatMichael thought? That J.P. was asking me tomarry him?

I want to die now.

“I think I need to go have a bit of a lie-down in my boudoir—alone—and let my maid apply some lavender oil to my temples while I think this over. I’m just so flattered and thrilled. But, no, don’t call me,I’ll call you.”

The truth is Grandmère’s speech just seemed the tiniest bit…outdated.

And also it didn’t really seem to apply considering the fact that J.P. and I have been going out for almost two years. So it’s not like his prom-ring proposal was completely out of left field.

Come on! I don’t even know where I want to go to college next year. How am I supposed to know who I want to be with for the foreseeable future?

But I have a pretty good clue:Not someone who hasn’t evenglanced at my book yet, even though he’s had it more than forty-eight hours.

I’m just saying.

The thing is, I’d never say that in front of everyone on the whole boat, and humiliate J.P.! I love him. I do. I just…

Why, oh, why did he have to kneel down like that in front of everyone? And with aring ?

So instead of Grandmère’s speech—and totally aware that there was this growing silence as I just stood there, idiotically saying nothing at all, I said, feeling my cheeks getting hotter and hotter, “Well, we’ll see!”

Well, we’ll see? WELL, WE’LL SEE?

A totally hot, totally perfect, totally wonderful guy who, by the way, loves me, and is willing to wait for me for all eternity, asks me to go to the prom with him, and also offers me what looks, at least according to the size chart Grandmère made me memorize in my head, like a three-carat diamond ring, and I say,Well, we’ll see ?

What’swrong with me? Seriously, do I have some sort of wish to live alone (well, with Fat Louie) for the rest of my life?

I really think I do. J.P.’s confident smile wavered…but just a little.

“That’s my girl,” he said, and stood up and hugged me, while somewhere out in the crowd, someone started to clap…slowly at first (I recognized that clap…it had to have been Boris), and then more rapidly, until everyone was politely applauding.

It was horrible! They were applauding for me saying “Well, we’ll see!” in response to my boyfriend’s asking me to the prom! I didn’t deserve applause. I deserved to be tossed overboard. They were only doing it because I’m a princess, and their hostess. I know deep down inside, they were thinking, “What a byotch!”

Why? Why had Michaelleft ?

As J.P. hugged me, I whispered, “We have to talk.”

He whispered back, “I have certification to prove it’s blood free. Is that why you look so freaked out?”

“Partly,” I said, inhaling his mingled scent of dry cleaning and Carolina Herrera for Men. We’d stepped away from the microphone by then, so there was no chance of anyone overhearing us. “It’s just—”

“It’s only a promise ring.” J.P. broke the hug first, but he still held on to one of my hands…into which he’d slipped the box holding the ginormous diamond ring. “You know I’d do anything to make you happy. I thought this was what you wanted.”

I just looked up at him in total confusion. Part of my confusion was over the fact that here was this wonderful, wonderful guy who really did mean what he’d just said—I knew he would do anything to make me happy. So why couldn’t I just let him?

And another part of me was wondering what I had ever said to make him think what I wanted was a ring—promise, engagement, or otherwise?

“It’s what Boris got Tina,” J.P. explained, seeing my lack of comprehension. “And you were so happy for her.”

“Right,” I said. “Because that’s the kind of thing she likes—”

“I know,” J.P. said. “The same way she likes romance novels, and you wrote one—”

“So naturally if her boyfriend gave her a promise ring, I’d want one, too?” I shook my head. Hello. Couldn’t he see there was a big difference between me and Tina?

“Look,” J.P. said, closing my fingers around the velvet box. “I saw the ring, and it reminded me of you. Think of it as a birthday gift if it freaks you out to think of it the other way. I don’t know what’s been going on with you lately, but I just want you to know…I’m not going anywhere, Mia.I’m not leaving you, for Japan or anywhere else. I’m staying right here, by your side. So whatever you decide, whenever you decide it…you know where to find me.”