Princess on the Brink pd-8

Home > Literature > Princess on the Brink pd-8 > Page 11
Princess on the Brink pd-8 Page 11

by Meg Cabot


  “Mia.” Michael shook his head. “You’ve totally lost me with the clarinetist thing. I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about. But so far as me expecting you to sit home like a freaking nun—I never asked you to do that. I didn’t exactly think you’d WANT to date other people while I’m gone—I certainly don’t have the slightest intention of going out with other people while I’m gone—but if you want to, I guess it wouldn’t exactly be fair of me to hold it against you. Except that I thought…” Whatever he was about to say, he seemed to think better of it. He shook his head. “Never mind. Look, if that’s what you want…”

  Except that that WASN’T what I wanted!!!! That was the LAST THING I wanted.

  But it didn’t look as if I was going to get ANYTHING that I wanted. What I’d WANTED was for Michael and me to give each other our Precious Gifts—sorry, make love—tonight, and for him to say afterward that he’d changed his mind and wasn’t going to Japan tomorrow after all.

  But it turned out he HAD no Precious Gift to give, and he also had no intention of staying in America, whether I slept with him or not.

  I HAD COMPROMISED MY FEMINIST PRINCIPLES BY OFFERING TO SLEEP WITH HIM NOW, TONIGHT, INSTEAD OF AFTER MY SENIOR PROM LIKE I HAD ALWAYS INSISTED, AND HE HAD BASICALLY SAID, “NO, THANK YOU.”

  Well, more or less.

  Did he really think I was just going to FORGIVE him for that?

  Which has to be why I just looked at him and went, “Yes, Michael. That’s EXACTLY what I want. Because the truth is, if you’ve kept something like this from me through our whole relationship, it just makes me wonder what kind of relationship we really even have. I mean, you haven’t been HONEST with me—”

  “YOU FREAKING NEVER ASKED!” NOW he was yelling. “I didn’t even know it was important to you! I don’t even know where the hell thisPrecious Gift crap came from!”

  But it was too late. Much too late.

  “And the fact that you’re so willing to move to ANOTHER COUNTRY,” I went on, “pretty much signals to me that this relationship has never meant all that much to you, anyway.”

  “Mia.” Michael shook his head. Just once. He wasn’t yelling anymore. “Don’t do this.”

  But what else was I supposed to do? WHAT ELSE???

  I reached up and undid the snowflake necklace from around my neck. The snowflake necklace he’d given me on my fifteenth birthday. I held it out to him, the way Arwen gave her necklace—the Evenstar—to Aragorn, as a parting gift to remember her by as he attempted to regain his throne in an effort to win her father’s approval.

  Only I was giving Michael his necklace back—not because I wanted him to keep it to remember me by.

  But because I didn’t want it anymore.

  Because suddenly that snowflake was just a reminder of who ELSE had been at that dance—Judith Gershner.

  And, okay, she’d been there with another guy. That girl really seemed to get around. But still.

  The thing is, it was totally different for Aragorn and Arwen. Because Aragorn never Did It with a girl who knew how to clone fruit flies. And then lied about it.

  And okay, only by omission. But still.

  He NEVER TOLD ME. What ELSE hasn’t he told me???? HOW CAN I TRUST HIM WHEN HE GOES TO JAPAN????

  “Mia,” Michael said, this time in a totally different voice. Not like he was choked up, like Aragorn had been. But like he wanted to punch me in the face. Which I knew he’d never do. But still. He looked pretty angry. “Do. Not. Do. This.”

  “Good-bye, Michael,” I said with a sob. Because WHAT ELSE WAS THERE TO SAY?

  And I dropped the necklace on the floor—because he wouldn’t take it—and ran out of there before I choked on my own tears.

  And now Ephrain Kleinschmidt has pulled up in front of my building and wants seventeen dollars. I’m going to give him a twenty and let him keep the change as a tip. I owe him that much, at least, for all the Kleenex. Which I finally did start using, because I totally can’t stop crying. There’s no WAY I’m going to be able to hide what happened from my mom. If she’s still up when I get inside, anyway.

  If this is what self-actualization feels like, all I have to say is, I was a lot happier before I became self-actualized.

  Thursday, September 9, 11 p.m., the loft

  Mom was up. Because Lars, not finding me at Michael’s, called her. They were talking as I walked through the door.

  I’m in bed now with a cool washcloth over my forehead. That’s because when she hung up with Lars and asked me where I’d been, I had to run for the toilet, where I threw up my bluefin tuna two ways with artichoke salad with fava beans and scallions and Parmesan shavings. Not to mention the chocolate mousse.

  I’ve gotten her to promise not to call Dr. Fung’s emergency service. The only thing about me that’s sick is my heart.

  And I’m pretty sure Dr. Fung doesn’t have a prescription for what’s wrong with it.

  Thursday, September 9, 11:30 p.m., the loft

  Mom says she doesn’t think Michael not telling me about losing his virginity to Judith Gershner is that big a deal—not worth breaking up with him over, anyway. Her exact words were, “Oh, Mia. It’s just SEX.”

  That’s easy for her to say. She lost her virginity when she was younger than me, and to a guy who is now married to a former CORN PRINCESS. AND she’s happily married to someone else. Of course it’s just SEX to her. To me, it’s my LIFE.

  “Mom, he LIED to me,” I said.

  “Well, he didn’t EXACTLY lie,” Mom said. “I mean, you asked him if he and Judith were going out. And they weren’t.”

  “Mom. GOING OUT implies sleeping together.”

  “Since when?” Mom wanted to know. “I thought HOOKING UP meant sleeping together. And you didn’t ask Michael that. You asked him if he and Judith were GOING OUT.”

  The reason we both know this is because I went back through my old diaries, just to make sure I was right.

  And I was.

  “Are you sure you didn’t pick a fight with Michael over this because it’s easier for you to cope with him being gone if you’re mad at him than if you were still loving him, and missing him all the time?” was her next totally off-the-wall question.

  Yeah, right, Mom. Because I am feeling SO MUCH BETTER NOW.

  I didn’t tell her how the subject had come up. I mean, about HOW I’d found out about Michael and Judith. The last thing I need is my mom knowing what I’d tried to do—you know, convince Michael not to go to Japan by sleeping with him. She wouldn’t be TOO disappointed in me for being such a bad feminist and using sex as a manipulative tool, or anything.

  The phone just rang. I didn’t even check the caller ID to see who it was, because I knew. Who else would call this late, and risk waking up Rocky (who could sleep through a war protest…and actually has)?

  And Mom confirmed it when she looked in to say it was Michael, saying sorry to call so late but I wasn’t picking up my cell and he wanted to make sure I’d made it home okay.

  Like I’ll ever be okay again.

  Mom asked if I wanted to speak to him and I just looked at her and she said, “Um, Michael, now is probably not the best time,” into the phone and went away.

  My chest feels funny. Like it’s empty and hollow inside. I wonder if this is because I just barfed up my dinner, or if it’s because my heart has shattered into so many little pieces, it’s basically disappeared.

  Thursday, September 9, 11:45 p.m., the loft

  Michael just e-mailed me:

  SKINNERBX: Mia, I don’t understand what just happened. Judith Gershner is a nice person, but she’s never meant anything to me and never will. I don’t understand how the fact that I slept with her two years ago, BEFORE YOU AND I EVER WENT OUT, is a valid reason for you and me to break up. If that’s what just happened, which, as I said, I’m not even sure about, because you were acting so weird.

  And as for your thinking that I expect you to wait for me while I’m in Japan…well, yea
h, I guess I kind of thought you would, considering the fact that part of the reason I’m going is to improve the chances of our being able to have a future together. Maybe that’s a lot to ask. Maybe I have no right to expect it. I don’t know. I don’t understand any of this. Could you maybe call or write back and possibly explain? Because I’m apparently clueless. And this is all so stupid.

  God. That is so like him. What is so stupid about my wanting a boyfriend who actually VALUES intimacy and doesn’t dismiss his first sexual experience as just “messing around”?

  And okay, she already had a boyfriend, apparently. That just makes it worse. He was messing around with a girl who was messing around with him BEHIND HER BOYFRIEND’S BACK.

  And JUDITH GERSHNER???? How could he have had sex with JUDITH GERSHNER???? And not have TOLD me???? I mean, I have eaten LUNCH with Judith Gershner. I have gone ICE-SKATING with Judith Gershner.

  And okay, just once. But STILL. I had NO IDEA she and my boyfriend had been…you know.

  But I SHOULD have known. I mean, all the signs were there. That time she put her arm around his chair. And ate his garlic bread. I can’t believe I was so blind.

  I can’t believe Michael wasted his Precious Gift on HER when he didn’t even LOVE her.

  WHAT IS WRONG WITH BOYS????

  Uh-oh. Someone is texting me on my cell. This is just—

  Oh. It’s Tina.

  TINAHAKIMBABA: Mia, where r u? What happened? Did u give him ur Precious Gift? Is he still going to Japan? Text me back!

  I HAVE to text her back. I HAVE to tell her what’s going on.

  HRHMIAT: He said he was going to Japan whether we Did It or not. And Michael already gave his Precious Gift to Judith Gershner!!!!!

  TINAHAKIMBABA:!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  Thank God for Tina. I love her so much.

  HRHMIAT: I KNOW!!!!!!!

  TINAHAKIMBABA: BUT HE DIDN’T LUV HER!!!!!!!!!!!

  HRHMIAT: He said it didn’t mean anything, they were just “messing around.” Tina, what am I going 2 do?????? How could he not have told me?????

  TINAHAKIMBABA: But he DID tell U.

  HRHMIAT: A little late!!!!!

  TINAHAKIMBABA: But he TOLD u.

  HRHMIAT: HE DIDN’T EVEN LOVE HER!!!!!!!!

  TINAHAKIMBABA: Lots of times in romance novels the hero has had meaningless sex with women B4 he meets the heroine.

  HRHMIAT: WITH JUDITH GERSHNER?????

  TINAHAKIMBABA: Well, no. But it just makes it MORE meaningful when he and the heroine finally Do It. Bcuz sex is so much better when u luv the person.

  HRHMIAT: I CAN’T BLIEVE U R DEFENDING HIM!!!! He said he was going to Japan even if we DID IT!!!!

  TINAHAKIMBABA: I think U R right to B mad. But did U really break up?????

  HRHMIAT: I gave him back his snowflake necklace.

  TINAHAKIMBABA: MIA!!!!!!! NOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  HRHMIAT: TINA, HE LIED 2 ME!!!!

  TINAHAKIMBABA: No, he didn’t! He DID tell U. Eventually.

  HRHMIAT: That is not the point. The point is JUDITH GERSHNER GOT 2 TOUCH IT B4 I DID!!!!

  TINAHAKIMBABA: Lilly got 2 touch it b4 I did.

  HRHMIAT: BUT SHE IS UR FRIEND!!!!! Besides, Boris and Lilly did not go ALL THE WAY. And Boris is not moving to Japan and leaving you alone for a year. Or MORE!!!!

  TINAHAKIMBABA: True. Oh, Mia. I’m so sorry. I’ve g2g, my dad says I’ve reached my limit in text messages this month—ttyl!

  Tina’s so sweet. She risked her dad’s wrath to text me in my hour of need. She’s a good and true friend.

  Speaking of which…how am I ever going to face Lilly in the morning? I can’t.

  I just can’t.

  ME, A PRINCESS???? YEAH, RIGHT.

  A Screenplay by Mia Thermopolis

  (first draft)

  Scene 24

  INT/NIGHT—A large, comfortably furnished rent-controlled apartment on New York City’s Fifth Avenue, off Union Square. A newly madeover MIA THERMOPOLIS has just entered through the front door. Her best friend, LILLY MOSCOVITZ, a slightly chubby, pug-faced girl, is staring at her incredulously.

  LILLY

  Oh my God, what happened to you?

  MIA

  (taking off her coat, trying to be casual)

  Yeah, well, my grandmother made me go see this guy, Paolo, and he—

  LILLY

  (in state of shock)

  Your hair is the same color as Lana Weinberger’s.

  What’s on your FINGERS? Are those fake fingernails? Lana has those, too! Oh my God, Mia. You’re turning into Lana Weinberger!

  MIA

  (unable to take it anymore)

  Lilly. Shut up.

  MICHAEL

  (appearing in the doorway with no shirt on) Whoa.

  LILLY

  WHAT? WHAT did you just say to me?

  MIA

  You know what, Lilly? I’m a PRINCESS. I’m the princess of Genovia. And I will ALWAYS be a princess, I can’t escape it, I can’t pretend like it didn’t happen. And as a princess, I will always value princesslike qualities in other people, such as honesty and self-respect and not Doing It with People You Don’t Even Love. Good-bye.

  MICHAEL

  Whoa.

  MIA stomps from the room. LILLY and MICHAEL exchange stunned glances.

  Friday, September 10, 1 a.m., the loft

  Except, of course, I know now that the whole time—maybe even way back when I was first finding out I’m a princess—Michael was sleeping with Judith Gershner.

  And I didn’t know it.

  Because he never told me.

  Friday, September 10, 1:30 a.m., the loft

  HOW AM I GOING TO LIVE WITHOUT HIM?????

  Friday, September 10, 2:15 a.m., the loft

  I have to be strong. I HAVE to. He LIED to me. He said maybe it was a good idea for us to TAKE A BREAK.

  I can’t just let him get away with that.

  Maybe writing some poetry will help.

  You thought I gave you up for some

  Foolish feminist morals.

  You whose head ought to be wreathed

  In silver-plated laurels?

  For were you not a man?

  Was your sex not the best?

  Had you not a suit and tie,

  Big feet and hairy chest?

  Yet you opened up the cage

  For my headstrong reckless flight

  You thought I’d learn my lesson quick

  And return to you contrite.

  My freedom found, however,

  I disappeared from view.

  Maybe I’d catch no one nicer

  But anyone’s better than you.

  Oh, our love affair was tragic!

  I wept with passionate strife.

  Till you let me go, and I found out

  I prefer the single life.

  God, I wish that were all true.

  Michael! My cherished preserver!

  Friday, September 10, 3 a.m., the loft

  Dear Michael,

  I just wanted to say—

  Dear Michael,

  Why did you have to—

  Dear Michael,

  WHY????

  Friday, September 10, 4 a.m., the loft

  Michael! My hope! My love! My life!

  Friday, September 10, the limo on the way to school

  I can’t believe Mom made me go to school today.

  I told her my heart was broken. I told her I hadn’t slept A WINK ALL NIGHT LONG. I told her I can’t stop crying. I haven’t stopped crying since last night, practically. I had no idea human beings were even CAPABLE of producing so many tears.

  It was like talking to a stone wall. Mom was all, “You broke up with Michael, Mia, not the other way around. No way are you going to wallow around in bed all day.”

  It’s weird but…it’s almost like she’s on MICHAEL’S side, or something.

  But that can’t be possible, right? I mean, she’s MY mom, not HIS.

  Still. She even made ME cal
l Lilly and tell her to find alternative transportation to school this morning. She refused to do it for me, even though I begged, because I was afraid Michael might see it was me on the caller ID, and pick up instead.

  I feel bad leaving Lilly in the lurch without a ride, but NO WAY can I face Michael this morning. And I know he will TOTALLY be waiting in front of their building for me, because he left me an e-mail to that effect this morning, which said:

  SKINNERBX: I still don’t understand what I did wrong. How is my having slept with someone before I even knew you liked me a crime? I don’t get it.

  I guess I can see why you’re upset about the Japan thing, but I don’t know how many times I have to explain that one of the reasons I’m doing this is for US before it sinks in. Lilly said Boris said something about clarinetists at lunch the other day, so I guess that’s where that came from, but I still don’t understand it. But if you want to see other people while I’m gone, I guess I’m fine with that. Maybe it would even be a good thing.

  Look, we have to talk, okay? I’ll be waiting with Lilly out front before school. Maybe we could grab a coffee?

  I HAD to call Lilly (on her cell, so there was no chance of getting Michael by mistake) and was all, “Lilly? I can’t come pick you up today.”

  “POG?” Lilly sounded suspicious. “Is that you?”

  “Y-yes,” I said.

  “Wait—are you CRYING?”

  “Y-yes,” I said. Because I was.

  “WHAT is going on?” Lilly wanted to know. “What did you do to my brother? I’ve never seen him like this. Did you really dump him? Because he says you did.”

  “He—he—”

  But it was hopeless. I couldn’t speak. I was crying too hard.

  “Jesus, Mia,” Lilly said, actually seeming concerned about me for once in her life. “You sound even worse than he does. WHAT IS GOING ON?”

 

‹ Prev