And Lilly says life with her mother is practically unbearable, since Mrs. Dr. Moscovitz has put them both on low-carb diets, and banished bagels from the breakfast table entirely, and meets with her trainer, like, four times a week.

But what about MY share of Michael time? I mean, I am the girlfriend. Even if I am still not pre- pared to go as far as he might want to go, making- out-wise.

Which is actually a good thing, considering what Mr. Dr. Moscovitz could have walked in on, that one time.

FTLOUIE: I didn't mean that literally! I meant maybe we could have a nice dinner, just you and me.

SKINNERBX: Oh. Sure. But you can have that any- time. I mean, what do you REALLY want?

What DO I really want? World peace, of course. An end to emissions of the greenhouse gases that are causing global warming. For the Drs. Moscovitz to get back together, so I can see my boyfriend on Friday nights again. To not be a princess anymore. To have things go back to the way they used to be, when things were simpler . . . like that time we all went ice-skating at RockefellerCenter, and I bit my tongue—only without the tongue-biting part. And the part where Michael was there with Judith Gershner and I was there with Kenny Showalter.

But you know.

Aside from that.

But none of these things is something Michael can actually get me. He has no control over world peace, global warming, his parents, or the fact that they close the skating rink at RockefellerCenter on April 1, so I've never been able to go ice-skating on my birthday.

And he certainly has no control over the fact that I'm a princess. Unfortunately.

FTLOUIE: Seriously, Michael. Except for a nice dinner, I don't want anything.

SKINNERBX: Are you SURE? Because that's not what you said at Christmas.

What did I say I wanted at Christmas? I can't even remember now. I hope he's not thinking of getting me another Fiesta Giles action figure. Because now that Buffy's only on in reruns, it just makes me sad to look at her and her friends, on their little plastic stands in the cemetery on my dresser. In fact, I've been thinking of replacing them with a lavender plant since the smell of lavender is sup- posed to be soothing, and I need all the soothing I can get.

Or the Napoleon Dynamite-Style Time Machine Modulus Mr. Gianini confiscated off a kid in his freshman Algebra class and gave to me. Whichever fits better.

Besides, Michael doesn't have time to be bidding on eBay. He needs to spend what little free time he has with me.

Okay, I have to put a kibosh on the gift thing. It's got to be really hard on Michael, figuring out what to get for a girl who can basically get anything she wants from her palace. He's just a poor, hardworking student. It's just not fair to him. Or any boy who might happen to be dating a princess.

FTLOUIE: I have an idea. Let's make a rule: From now on, we can only give each other presents we've MADE.

SKINNERBX: Are you serious?

FTLOUIE: Serious as L. Ron Hubbard was that we're all descended from aliens.

SKINNERBX: Okay. You're on.

WOMYNRULE: POG, are you online with my brother again?

Crud. It's Lilly.

FTLOUIE: Yes. What do you want?

WOMYNRULE: Just to remind you that SHE FLEW IN ON A HELICOPTER.

FTLOUIE: I have flown into tons of things in a helicopter.

Although this is not strictly true. I have only been on a helicopter once, when there was an accident on the FDR and there was no other way to get to the private jet parked at Teterboro.

But I know what Lilly is getting at, and I'm trying to nip it in the bud.

ILUVROMANCE: Mia, you HAVE to have a party. You HAVE to. I know you're upset about what happened at your birthday party last year.

Oh, great! Now Tina's getting in on it, too?

FTLOUIE: Gang up on me, why don't you, everybody.

ILUVROMANCE: Lilly PROMISES what happened last year at your party won't happen this year. We won't play Seven Minutes in Heaven. We are way more mature than that now.

WOMYNRULE: And besides, I'm with J. P. now.

FTLOUIE: YOU were with Boris then. But it still happened.

WOMYNRULE: But things with Boris were so boring. I mean, where could it go?

ILUVROMANCE: Urn. Ahem.

WOMYNRULE: Sorry. I'm sure things with you and Boris are totally different.

ILUVROMANCE: Dang straight.

WOMYNRULE: But you know what I mean. Things with J. P. are still so... well... you know.

Did we ever. Because Lilly can talk of hardly any- thing else. I had never seen her so besotted for a guy.

I suppose because J. P. keeps her guessing as to what his real feelings for her are. It seems like all I ever hear from her these days—when she isn't going on about her hatred for Andy Milonakis—is Do you think he likes me? I mean, we go out, and stuff, and we kiss, but he doesn't say stuff, you know, about how he feels about me. Do you think that's weird? I mean, what kind of guy doesn't talk about his feelings? Well, okay, I know

MOST guys don't talk about their feelings. But I mean, what guy who goes to AEHS doesn't want to talk about his feelings? Who isn't gay, I mean?

As if I'm supposed to know.

ILUVROMANCE: Has he still not said the L word, Lilly?

WOMYNRULE: He hasn't even said the G word. As in, that I'm his girlfriend.

FTLOUIE: Have YOU said the L word to HIM? Or the B word?

WOMYNRULE: Of COURSE not. We've only been going out for a little over a month. I don't want to scare him off.

FTLOUIE: Faint heart never won fair lady.

WOMYNRULE: Stop quoting Gilbert and Sullivan at me. I want him to say the L word first. Is that such a crime? WHY WON'T HE SAY IT????

ILUVROMANCE: Well, you know J. P. has always been something of a loner. He probably just doesn't know how to act around girls.


WOMYNRULE: DO you really think so?

FTLOUIE:Totally. Oh my God, you guys, check it out:

J. P.'s like the Beast from Beauty and the Beast, you know, when Belle first comes to live in the palace, and the Beast is all mean to her? Because, just like the Beast was alone in his castle for all those years, J. P. sat by himself at a lunch table for a really long time, so maybe he isn't entirely sure how people are supposed to interact, because he hasn't had all that much experience with human interaction—JUST LIKE THE BEAST!!! So he may come off as gruff or nonemotional, when I'm sure the opposite is true-JUST LIKE THE BEAST!!!!

WOMYNRULE: Mia, I know Beauty and the Beast is your favorite musical, and all. But I think that's sort of stretching it.

ILUVROMANCE: NO, I think Mia is right. All J.P. needs is the right woman to unlock his heart—which up until now he has kept in a cold, hard shell for his own emotional protection —and he will be like an unstoppable volcano of passion.

WOMYNRULE: In that case, why hasn't he exploded already? Unless you're implying I'm not the right woman to unlock his heart.

ILUVROMANCE: I'm not saying that! I'm just saying that it won't be easy.

FTLOUIE: Yeah. Like it wasn't easy for Belle to win the Beast's trust.

WOMYNRULE: Whatever! It took her, like, two songs!

ILUVROMANCE: Yeah, but real life isn't like a musical. Unfortunately.

FTLOUIE: Maybe if you said you loved him first, it would cause the first crack in his hard outer shell


WOMYNRULE: I AM NOT SAYING I LOVE HIM FIRST!!!!

SKINNERBX: Mia? Are you still there?

My boyfriend! I had gotten so involved talking about Lilly's boyfriend, I totally forgot about my own!


FTLOUIE: Of course I am. Hang on a minute.

FTLOUIE: YOU guys, I have to go, but one last thing: I AM NOT HAVING A SWEET SIXTEEN PARTY ANDTHAT'S FINAL. GOT IT?

WOMYNRULE: God, alright already. You don't have to shout.

ILUVROMANCE: Mia, no one wants you to do anything you don't want to do. But your sweet sixteen IS a big deal

FTLOUIE: NO PARTY.

WOMYNRULE: Well, better make sure your grandma knows that, then.

FTLOUIE: Wait. What is THAT supposed to mean?

WOMYNRULE: Nothing. I have to go now.

FTLOUIE: LILLY!!! ARE YOU AND GRANDMÈRE PLOTTING SOMETHING BEHIND MY BACK AGAIN????

WOMYNRULE: terminated

FTLOUIE: I'm going to kill her.

ILUVROMANCE: She can't help it. You know how upset she's been since her parents' separation. Not to mention this Andy Milonakis thing. And the fact that J. P. won't admit his true feelings for her. Oops, I hear my mom calling. I have to go. Bye!

ILUVROMANCE: terminated

Great. Just great.

FTLOUIE: Michael, do you know if your sister and my grandmother are planning something for my birthday? Like a surprise party?

SKINNERBX: Not that I'm aware of. Can you imagine what kind of party those two would come up with?

Actually, I can:

The kind of party I'd really, really hate.



Thursday, April 29, Homeroom


I asked my mom at breakfast this morning if Grandmère and Lilly were planning a surprise party for my sweet sixteen, and she choked on her fresh- squeezed OJ from Papaya King and went, "Sweet Jesus, I hope not."

To which Mr. Gianini added, "Don't expect me to chaperone if they are. I saw enough grinding at the Nondenominational Winter Dance this year to last me a lifetime."

Which is true. Grinding does seem to be all the rage around Albert Einstein High lately. I wish it were krumping, instead. But no. My peers (all except for Michael, who is opposed to grinding for reasons he has yet to share with me, beyond saying it's "stupid looking") seem only to want to rub their private parts against one another.

Too bad they won't let us do THAT in PE.

"I thought you didn't want a party this year," my mom said. "Because of what happened at your party last year. "

"I don't," I said. "But, you know... people don't always listen to me."

By people, of course, I meant Grandmère.

As my mom well knew.

"Well, you can rest easy," my mom said. "I haven't heard anything about Lilly and your grandmother planning any party."

I quizzed Lilly at length about my suspicions in the limo on the way to school, but she never once cracked.

Perhaps I was only imagining the whole Grandmère/Lilly plot to fete me against my will.

Which isn't any wonder, really, if you think about all the stuff they've gotten up to behind my back in the past. Really, they are like the Snape/Malfoy pairing of the Muggle world. Only without the capes.

I observed J. P. closely all through lunch to see if I could detect any signs that he might explode in a vol- cano of passion, as Tina suggested he was going to someday.

He must have noticed me staring at him though, because at one point when Lilly got up to get a second helping of mac and cheese (her mother's low-carb diet has had the opposite effect she'd evidently hoped for where Lilly is concerned—it has only turned Lilly into even more of a raging carboholic), he looked at me and went, "Mia. Do I have some- thing on my face?"

I was like, "No. Why?"

"Because you keep looking at me."

Busted! How embarrassing!

"Sorry," I muttered into my Diet Coke, hoping he wouldn't notice how I was blushing. Only how could he not, under the unforgiving glare of the fluorescent overheads? (Note to self: Look into cost of getting new, more flattering lighting in caf.) "I was just... checking something."

"Checking what?"

"Nothing," I said hastily, and dug into my bean salad.

"Mia," J.P. started to say, in a soft—but deep- voice, that (not surprisingly, considering the fact that Boris, across the table, had his violin out, and was showing Tina, Ling Su, and Perin how easy it was to pluck out the chords to the Foo Fighters' "Best of You") only I could hear. "Do you-"

But he never got to finish whatever it was he was going to say to me, because at that moment Lilly returned.

"Can you believe they were out of mac and cheese?" she asked. "I had to settle for four slices of bread and a bag of Doritos." She seemed to over- come her disappointment pretty quickly, though, if how fast she chowed down those Doritos is any indication.

I wonder what J. P. was going to say to me?

I think Tina is definitely right. One of these days, he's going to blow like Mount Vesuvius. There will be no controlling J. P.'s eruption of passion when it finally happens.

Thursday, 7 p.m., April 29, limo home from the Plaza

be attacked by this woman with purple hair in a pair of lowriders who went, "Oh, great, she's here," and tried to stick a portable microphone pack down the back of my shirt.

"What are you DOING?" I demanded.