fare, like hot cider. This will be followed in the evening by the dance I am supposed to go to with Kenny. If he ever asks me

to it, I mean.

Unless, of course, I do the right thing and break up with him.

In which case, I won't be able to go at all, because you can't go without a date.

I wish Sebastiano would just hurry up and kill me already.







Monday, December 7, Algebra



WHY???? WHY can't I ever remember my Algebra notebook?????

FIRST - Evaluate exponents

SECOND - Multiply and divide in order left to right

THIRD - Perform addition and subtraction in order left to right

EXAMPLE: 2x3-15/5=6-3=3



Oh, God. Lana Weinberger just tossed me a note.

What now? This can't be good. Lana's had it in for me for ever. Don't ask me why. I mean, I could kind of understand her resenting me for when Josh Richter asked me to the Cultural Diversity Dance instead of her. But he only asked me because

of the princess thing - and they got back together right after. Besides, Lana hated me long before that.

When I open the note, guess what it says:

I heard what happened to you at the skating rink this weekend. Guess the BF is going to have to wait a little longer

if he wants to see any tongue action, huh?

Oh my God. Does everyone in the entire school know that Kenny and I have not yet French kissed?

It is all Kenny's fault, of course.

What next? The cover of the Post?

I'm telling you, if our parents knew what actually goes on every day in the typical American high school, they would totally opt for home-schooling.





Monday, December 7, World Civ.



It is clear what I have to do.

I've always known it, of course, and if it hadn't been for, you know, the dance, I would have done it long before now.

But it is clear now that I cannot afford to wait until after the dance. I should have done it last night when he called, but you

can't really do something like that over the phone. Well, I mean, a girl like Lana Weinberger probably could, but not me.

No, I don't think I can put it off another day: I have got to break up with Kenny. I simply cannot continue living this lie.

Fortunately, I do have the support of at least one person in this plan: Tina Hakim Baba.

I didn't want to tell her. I didn't plan on telling anybody. But it all sort of slipped out today in the Girls' Room between third

and fourth periods while Tina was putting on her eye make-up. Her dad won't let her wear make-up, you see, so Tina has to wait until she gets to school to put it on. She has a deal with her bodyguard, Wahim (Tina has a bodyguard too, just like me, but not because she's a princess, it's because her dad is a rich oil sheik and he is paranoid someone is going to kidnap her and hold her for ransom). The deal is that Tina won't tell her parents how much Wahim flirts with Mademoiselle Klein, our French teacher, if Wahim doesn't tell Mr. and Mrs. Hakim Baba about Tina's Maybelline addiction.

Anyway, all of a sudden I just couldn't take it any more, and I ended up telling Tina what Kenny said last night on the phone—

And a lot more than that actually.

But first the part about Kenny's phone call.

Unlike Lilly, Tina believed me.

But Tina also had the totally wrong reaction. She thought it was great.

'Oh my God, Mia, you are so lucky,' she kept saying. 'I wish Dave would tell me he loves me! I mean, I know he is fully committed to our relationship, but his idea of romance is paying to have my fries super-sized at Mickey D's.'

This was so not the kind of support I was looking for.

'But, Tina,' I said. I felt Tina, with her extensive romance reading, would understand. 'The thing is, I don't love him.'

Tina widened her mascaraed eyes at me. 'You don't?'

'No,' I said, miserably. 'I mean, I really like him, as a friend. But I'm not in love or anything. Not with him.'

'Oh, God,' Tina said, reaching out and grabbing my wrist. 'There's someone else, isn't there?'

We only had a few minutes before the bell rang. We both had to get to class.

And yet, for some reason, I chose this moment to make my big confession. I don't know why. It's just that I can't stop thinking about what my dad said. You know, about showing the guy I like how I feel. Tina, I felt, was the only person I knew who would know how to help me do that.

So I went, 'Yes.'

Tina nearly spilled her cosmetic bag, she was so excited.

'I knew it!' she yelled. 'I knew there was a reason you wouldn't let him kiss you!'

My jaw dropped. 'You know about that too?'

'Well.' Tina shrugged. 'Kenny told Dave, who told me.'

Jeez! What's that Oprah's always complaining about -about how men aren't in touch with their emotions and don't share enough? It sounds to me like Kenny's been doing enough sharing recently to make up for several centuries worth of masculine reticence.

'So who is he?' Tina asked, all eagerly, as she packed up her eyelash curler and lip-liner. 'The guy you like?'

I went, 'It doesn't matter. Besides, the whole thing is completely futile. He sort of has a girlfriend, I think.'

Tina whipped her head around to look at me, making her thick black braid smack her in her own face, which is chubby, but

in a good way.

'It's Michael, isn't it?' she demanded, grabbing my arm again. She was holding on so tight, it hurt.

My instinctive reaction, of course, was to deny it. In fact, I even opened my mouth, all set to have the word 'no' come out of it.

But then I was like, Why? Why should I deny it to Tina? Tina wouldn't tell anyone. And she might be able to help me.

So instead of saying No, I took a deep breath and said, 'If you tell anyone, I'll kill you, understand? KILL YOU.'

Tina did a strange thing then. She let go of my arm and started jumping up and down in a circle.

'I knew it, I knew it, I knew it,' she said as she jumped. Then she stopped jumping and grabbed my arm again. 'Oh, Mia,

I always thought you two would make the cutest couple. I mean, I like Kenny and all, but he's, you know.' She wrinkled up

her nose. 'No Michael.'

If I had thought it felt strange last night telling my dad the truth about my feelings for Michael, that was nothing — NOTHING - compared to how it felt to be telling someone my own age. The fact that Tina hadn't burst out laughing or gone, 'Yeah, right,'

in a sarcastic way meant more to me than I ever would have expected.

And the fact that she seemed to understand - even applaud - my feelings for Michael made me want to fling my arms around her and give her a great big hug.

Only there was no time for that since the bell was about to ring.

Instead, I gushed, 'Really? You really don't think it's stupid?'

'Duh,' Tina said. 'Michael is hot. And he's a senior.' Then she looked troubled. 'But what about Kenny? And Judith?'

'I know,' I said, my shoulders slumping in a manner that would have caused Grandmere to rap me on the back of the head,

if she'd seen them. 'Tina, I don't know what to do.'

Tina's dark eyebrows furrowed with concentration.

'I think I read a book where this happened once,' she said. 'Love's Tender Storm, it was called, I think. If I could just remember how they resolved everything—'

But before she could remember, the bell rang. We were both totally late to class.

But, if you ask me, it was worth it. Because now, at least, I don't have to worry alone. I have somebody else worrying with me.




Monday, December 7, Gifted and Talented


Lunch was a disaster.

Considering that everybody in the entire school seems to know, in the minutest detail, exactly what I've been doing -or not doing - with my tongue lately, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. But it was even worse than I could have imagined.

That's because I ran into Michael at the salad bar. I was creating my usual chickpea and pinto bean pyramid when I saw him headed for the burger grill (despite my best efforts, both Moscovitzes remain stubbornly carnivorous).

Seriously, all I did was say 'Fine' when he asked how I was doing. You know, on account of how last time he saw me I was bleeding from the mouth (what a nice picture that must have been. I am so glad that I have been able to maintain an

appearance of dignity and beauty at all times in front of the man I love).

Anyway, then I asked him, just to be polite, you know, how his dentist appointment went. It's not my fault, what happened next.

Which was that Michael started telling me about how he'd had to have this cavity filled and that his lips were still numb from

the novocaine. Seeing as how I have experienced a certain amount of sensation-deadening, what with my gouged tongue, I could relate to this, so I just sort of, you know, looked at Michael's lips while he was talking, which I have never really done before. I mean, I have looked at other parts of Michael's body (particularly when he comes into the kitchen in the morning

with no shirt on, like he does every time I sleep over at Lilly's). But I've never really looked at his lips. You know. Up close.

Michael actually has very nice lips. Not thin lips, like mine. I don't know if you should say this about a boy's lips, but Michael's look like if you kissed them, they'd be very soft.

It was while I was noticing this about Michael's lips that the very bad thing happened: I was looking at them, you know, and wondering if they'd be soft to kiss and, as I looked, I sort of actually pictured us kissing, you know, in my head. And right then I got this very warm feeling - the one they talk about in Tina's romance novels - and RIGHT THEN was when Kenny went by on his way to get his usual lunch, Coke and an ice-cream sandwich.

I know Kenny can't read my mind - if he could, he totally. would have broken up with me by now - but maybe he caught some hint as to what I was thinking, and that's why he didn't say 'hi' back when Michael and I said 'hi'.

Well, that and the whole part where I said Um, OK after he said he loved me.

Kenny must have known something was up, if my face was anywhere near as red-hot as it felt. Maybe that's why he didn't

say 'hi' back. Because I was looking so guilty. I'd certainly felt guilty. I mean, there I was, looking at another guy's lips and wondering what it would be like to kiss them, and my boyfriend goes walking by.

I am so going to bad-girl hell when I die.

You know what I wish? I wish everyone could read my mind. Because then Kenny would never have asked me out. He'd

have known I don't think of him that way. And Lilly wouldn't make fun of me for not letting Kenny kiss me. She would know the reason I don't is that I'm in love with someone else.

The bad part is, she'd know who that someone else is.

And that someone probably wouldn't even speak to me again, because it's totally uncool for a senior to go out with a freshman. Especially one who can't go anywhere without a bodyguard.

Besides, I'm almost positive he's going out with Judith Gershner, because after he came back from the grill, he went and sat down next to her.

So that settles that.

I wish I were leaving for Genovia tomorrow instead of in two weeks.






Monday; December 7, trench

In spite of that disastrous incident at lunch, I had a pretty good time in Gifted and Talented. In fact, it was almost like old

times again. I mean, before we all started going out with each other and everyone became so obsessed with the inner

workings of my mouth, and all that.

It was really nice. Mrs. Hill spent the whole class period in the teachers' lounge across the hall, yelling at American Express

on the phone, leaving us free to do what we usually do during her class . . . whatever we wanted. For instance, those of us who, like Lilly's boyfriend Boris, wanted to work on our individual projects (Boris is learning to play some new sonata on his violin) which is what Gifted and Talented class is supposedly for, did so.

Those of us, however, like Lilly and me, who did not want to work on our individual projects (mine is studying for Algebra; Lilly's is working on her cable access TV show) did not.

This was especially satisfying because Lilly had completely forgotten about the whole kissing thing between Kenny and me. The reason for this is that now she's mad at Mrs Spears, her Honours English teacher, who shot down her term paper proposal.