Meg Cabot - Princess on the Brink

Lilly didn’t look very sympathetic. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” she said. “You’re more apathetic than the rest of this school. You’re worse than the ninth graders!”

“Lilly,” I said. “I totally think you could win, without my help. I mean, for one thing, think about it—you’d be running unopposed.”

“You know I wouldn’t get fifty percent of the vote,” Lilly said through gritted teeth. “Why can’t you just run and step down, like you were SUPPOSED to do last year?”

“Because my boyfriend is leaving this country for a whole year in THREE DAYS,” I practically yelled, causing Mrs. Hill to glance up from her Isabella Bird catalog. I lowered my voice. “And I want to spend as much time as I can with him until then. Which means I DON’T want to be spending my evenings writing speeches and makingMia for President signs.”

“I’ll write the speeches,” Lilly said, her teeth still gritted. “And I’ll make the signs. You just do what you were supposed to last year, and step down like you said you were going to.”

“Oh, God,whatever ,” I said, just to get her off my back. “FINE.”

“FINE,” Lilly said back.

And then it occurred to me that I was letting a golden opportunity slip through my fingers, and I added, “ON ONE CONDITION.”

And Lilly was like, “What?”

“You have to tell me if you and J.P. Did It over the summer.”

Lilly just glared at me for a while. Then, finally, like it was this supreme sacrifice, she said, “All right. I’ll tell you. AFTER the election.”

Which was fine with me. So long as I get to find out.

I don’t know why it’s so interesting to me. But, I mean, if my best friend has had sex, I think I should be allowed to hear about it. In detail. Especially considering the fact that I’m not going to be able even to SMELL my boyfriend for the coming year, and will have to live vicariously through Lilly’s romance.

Although she once told me she doesn’t go around smelling J.P.’s neck and thinks it’s very weird that I smell Michael’s all the time.

More than likely Lilly’s vomeronasal organ—her auxiliary olfactory sense organ—regressed during gestation like most humans’ do. Mine obviously didn’t.

Which is just another example of what a biological sport I am.

Mrs. Hill just asked me what I plan on doing in class this year. So I was forced to tell her about my practice PSAT math score.

Now she’s got me doing practice problems from theOfficial SAT Study Guide.

I think that this, coupled with the rest of the events in the past twenty-four hours of my life, pretty much proves that God does not exist.

Or that if He does, He is supremely indifferent to my suffering.

Jill bought five apples at the grocery store. She paid with a five-dollar bill and received three quarters in change. Jill realized she’d received too much change, and gave back one of the quarters. How much did the apples cost?

WHATEVER. That is what debit cards are for. Okay, let’s move on.

What is the least positive integer divisible by the numbers 2, 3, 4, and 5?

Oh, right. Like I know. Okay, next:

The weight of the cookies in a box of 100 cookies is 8 ounces. What is the weight, in ounces, of three cookies?

WHY DO I NEED TO KNOW THIS IF ALL I’M GOING TO BE DOING SOMEDAY IS RUNNING A COUNTRY AND WILL HAVE MY OWN ROYAL ACCOUNTANTS? WHY WHY WHY???? IT ISN’T FAIR!!!!!!!!!!

Wednesday, September 8, Chemistry

Mia—Is it true? Michael is going to Tsukuba for a year to work on a robotic device that could put an end to open-heart surgery?

Oh, God. Here we go. Tina insists Kenny is still in love with me—even after all this time—but I’ve always told her she is confusing her Harlequin romance novels with real life again.

But maybe I was being unnecessarily harsh. Maybe she’s RIGHT. Because why else would he be so interested in my current dating status????

Yes, Kenny. It’s true. Although we are not breaking up!!!

That is SO COOL. Do you think he’d consider hiring me—you know, when he gets back—as, like, an intern or something? Because I’ve always been fascinated by robotics, and have actually been tinkering with a design for an orbital rotor for a robotic scalpel. Do you think he could use me? I assume he’ll be hiring his friends.

Oh. So, it’s not me he wants after all…well, that’s a relief.

Kenny, you KNOW about this robotic surgery stuff?

Um, of course. And it isn’t “stuff,” Mia, it’s really the new frontier in robotic science. Robotic surgical systems are already being installed in hospitals around the globe. The ultimate goal of the robotic field is to design a system that will do exactly what Michael’s prototype does. If he can build a model that actually operates as it’s supposed to in a surgical setting…well, let’s just say there won’t have been as ground-shaking a development in science since Lucy the cloned sheep. Michael will be hailed as a genius…no, more than just a genius. Perhaps even a MEDICAL SAVIOR.

Oh. Well. Thanks for clarifying that for me. I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you to Michael.

Sweet. Thanks!

Mia—You okay? You hardly touched your falafel at lunch.

God, J.P. is so sweet! I can’t believe he noticed!

I’m fine. I guess.

I don’t imagine Boris pontificating on orchestral dalliances he has seen helped very much.

Yeah, not so much. It’s just…what’s a medical savior going to want to have to do with ME? I mean, I’m just a PRINCESS. Anybody can be aprincess. All you have to do is have the right parents. It’s no harder than being born Paris Hilton, for God’s sake.

At least you remember to put on underwear in the morning, I’m assuming.

Is that supposed to be helping?

Sorry. I thought the situation called for a little levity. Bad miscalculation on my part. Mia, you’re wonderful in and of yourself. You know that. You’re a lot more than just a princess. In fact, I would say that’s the tiniest part of you, not what DEFINES you.

But I haven’t DONE anything. I mean, not anything great that people are going to remember me by. Except be a princess, which, as I mentioned, isn’t something I actively DID, I just got born that way.

You’re only sixteen. Cut yourself some slack.

But Michael’s only nineteen and he may be saving thousands of people’s lives, like, nextyear. If I’m going to do something great someday, I need to get started NOW.

I thought you were going to write a screenplay of your life and Lilly was going to direct it.

Yeah, but what have I done in my LIFE that will make the screenplay meaningful? Like, I haven’t saved hundreds of Jews from annihilation by the Nazi scourge, or gone blind and yet gone on to write beautiful music.

I think holding yourself to the standards set by Oskar Schindler and Stevie Wonder is a bit unrealistic.

But don’t you see? MICHAEL is setting that kind of standard.

But Michael loves you, just the way you are! So what are you worried about? You can be a great person just for being a good friend or a terrific writer or humorous to be around, you know.

I guess. It’s just that he’s probably going to be meeting a lot of brilliant, beautiful girls in Japan, and how do I know he’s not going to fall for one of THEM?

He’s probably met lots of brilliant, beautiful girls at Columbia, and he hasn’t fallen for any of them, has he?

Well, no. But that’s just because, even though they’re all brilliant, they all look like Judith Gershner.

Who’s Judith Gershner?

She’s this girl who used to go here who could clone fruit flies and who I thought Michael liked and—You know what? Never mind. You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.